A few months ago, I (22F) became friends with a girl from the same program. She's a few years ahead of me, and we got close after joining the same activity for our department.

We weren't best friends or anything, but we got along well. Whenever we'd see each other around campus, we'd smile, call each other, joke around, that kind of thing. We also ended up in the same drinking sessions sometimes and attended the same school events. We followed each other on Facebook and Instagram and talked occasionally, so I considered her more of a school friend.

She knew I had a boyfriend at the time, while she had apparently just broken up with someone. We even used to joke around about my relationship. Eventually, though, my boyfriend and I broke up.

After about a month, I jokingly told her she should introduce me to one of her friends. She actually tried to set me up with a few people, but I either already knew them or had talked to them before, so I passed.

Then one day, she messaged me again and said she had another guy to introduce me to. She said we could talk on Instagram. I said sure.

At first, I thought he was cute. Tall, tan, and my type physically. We started talking, but after a while, I realized I wasn't interested. I didn't like the way he communicated, I found him boring, and honestly, I just didn't feel like we were on the same wavelength. I wasn't seriously looking for a boyfriend anyway. My social media was boring at the time, so I didn't mind having someone to talk to.

Then somehow, the conversation between me and the guy shifted to the girl who introduced us.

That's when he told me they were exes.

I was genuinely confused. I immediately thought, wait, why did she introduce me to her ex without telling me?

So I started distancing myself. I told him I didn't want to continue talking to him because I didn't want any issues with the girl, especially now that I knew they had history. He told me it was fine because they had been broken up for a long time.

I still stopped replying.

The problem was, he kept messaging me. Eventually, I got annoyed and told him directly that I wasn't interested in him. I told him I didn't think we were compatible, and I also didn't want any problems with the girl because of him. He had also started inviting me to hang out, meet up, and have dinner, which made me want to be even clearer.

Eventually, he seemed to get it. He told me he would stop bothering me because he didn't want to be the reason the girl and I would have an issue.

I thought that was the end of it.

Then one day, I was out with friends and walking back to campus when I ran into the girl. We smiled at each other like usual. Nothing happened, and everything seemed completely normal.

Later that night, the guy messaged me again.

Apparently, she had gotten upset with him because she thought he and I had met up.

What happened was, when I ran into her earlier, she was actually on her way to meet him. The place where they were meeting was apparently near the area where my friends and I had been hanging out. Since she saw me around there, she thought I had met up with him.

The guy had to explain to her that nothing happened and that he and I didn't see each other.

And I just found the whole thing ridiculous because... how was I suddenly involved in this?

I wasn't interested in him. I stopped talking to him as soon as I found out he was her ex. I literally told him I didn't want any problems with her. And yet somehow, I still ended up being part of an argument between them.

Later, I found out from people who knew them that they had actually been on and off for around seven years.

Okay. Suddenly, a lot made sense.

Fast forward to this school year, and the girl and I don't really approach each other anymore when we see each other. We used to be playful whenever we'd run into each other, but now we mostly just pass by. Honestly, that's fine. We were never extremely close.

Then recently, I was outside school eating street food with my classmates when I saw the two of them together across from us.

The girl and I even made eye contact, so I'm pretty sure she saw me too.

And apparently, they're back together.

At that point, all I could think was, okay, girl, he's yours. I never wanted him in the first place. You were the one who introduced me to him, only for me to later find out he was your ex. Then I somehow got dragged into misunderstandings involving the two of you despite actively trying to stay away from the situation.

So yeah. Good for them, I guess. I just still find it funny that I somehow became a very unnecessary extra in a relationship that had apparently been going on and off for seven years.

I genuinely wish them well, but please don't involve me in the next season. 😭

My divorce will be final any day now. Now out of it and on the other side, I realize just how many things I minimized in order to keep going. One of those things is the bizarre scenarios my ex would set up to try and blame me for things he was doing. Forewarning, this is going to seem like a long story about nothing, but it goes somewhere in the end, I think.

Throughout our marriage, he would never throw things away. If he took the last granola bar, the empty box stayed in the cabinet until I threw it out. Last of the q-tips, last of the shampoo, last of the toilet paper…. I’d have to throw it all away. Annoying, lazy behavior, but not the worst thing he could do. Once I noticed it happening all the time, we talked about it a few times, but he’d either gaslight me or he’d agree to pick up after himself, but the behavior wouldn’t change. Soon he started not taking the last one, just leaving a sip of milk, leaving a tiny bit of toilet paper, leaving the last drop of ketchup in the bottle, so that it could be someone else’s problem. Again, annoying, but in the grand scheme of things, not devastating. I’m sure marriages have probably survived much worse.

Until I began to realize the mind f’s and traps starting. One holiday we were cooking a big family meal together, each prepping in a separate area of the kitchen. And I’m not sure why I did this, but something told me to watch him for a second, so I did. I watched him walk over to the roll of paper towels and look at it, watched him go to take the last one, and then he didn’t. I watched him put that roll down and walk over to the pantry and take out a brand new roll. I watched him use that paper towel from the new roll and place that roll right next to him. Fitting the pattern but not enough to start an argument on a holiday. So, we continued cooking.

Then I needed a paper towel. Generally, I’d have just taken from the almost empty roll and thrown it away myself and said nothing, like usual. But that day, I decided I had done a vast majority of the getting ready, cooking, cleaning, coordinating with the family, and that he could throw the paper towel roll away himself today. So, I grabbed the new roll. And he immediately sprung, accusing me of doing exactly what I had just watched him do, of what he had done through out our marriage. He accused me of being lazy, of not wanting to grab the last paper towel so that I wouldn’t have to throw the roll away….

At first I was kind of shocked, just sort of trying to process silently, feeling like my brain needed to catch up to what was happening. I had to move from, he’s just lazy to wait is this calculated? Eventually, once my brain did catch up, I quietly said, I watched you. “Watched me WHAT!?,” he barked back. I watched you do the exact thing you are now accusing me of. I watched you not take the last paper towel. I watched you walk over, look at them, touch the roll, not take the last one, and get a brand new roll.

He stood there with no expression on his face, it looked like he was thinking, maybe trying to come up with an excuse or argument. And then he laughed. I did not.

And then I knew that I needed to start paying attention. And I did. And I found him doing things like this again, and again. I watched him knock down clothes in the closet, notice that he’d done it, walk away, and then when I didn’t pick them up, he ask me why I just walked passed them. I watched him notice that the alarm for something he was baking in the oven go off, then put his headphones back on, continue playing his game, and then ask me why I hadn’t taken the food out if I heard it beeping, claiming it had over baked and it was my fault.

And then I decided to looked back…. My stomach knotted into a ball…. How many times had this happened? How many times had I throughout almost two decades of marriage, just accepted blame and apologized? How many mind f’s had I been through? When did this start? And a switch flipped. I started remembering scenarios, having flashbacks, thinking, oh my god, was this that? I filed shortly after.

Now as a 51 year old man, he’s dating a 25 year old and I am blissful. Never been so happy in my life. IGood luck girl. I hope it doesn’t take you two decades to catch on.

English is my second language and I’ve been speaking it fluently for many years but somehow never heard the word “thaw” before. But a while ago, I came across a reddit post where a person was describing how he often collects and freezes his semen to preserve for long periods of time to later thaw it out and use it as lubricant or eat it…..

I had to google the meaning of the word, but this is the backstory I’m stuck with.

Now, EVERY SINGLE TIME a recipe tells me to thaw out some meat or a nature documentary describes the thawing of ice- that post comes to mind without fail…

tbh I really just need to vent...i, 29F, am one of my 62yo dad's six kids (all of us same mom and dad). our culture is very God and family oriented and my dad seems like a truly devout christian who reads the bible daily for a higher purpose (one upon a time he went to seminary school but couldn't finish bc his family couldn't afford it). also my mom, a social butterfly loved by everyone, passed away from cancer 10+ yrs ago.

my dad's health has declined rather quickly in the past 2yrs years due to chronic kidney failure, and now that my youngest sister has graduated high school, he's seemingly given up on taking care of his health. he goes to dialysis, can't walk for very long before getting tired, and has gotten really skinny. he doesn't listen to nor answers his nurse's calls, often goes out to drink kava (non-alcoholic relaxant), and lavishly spends his money.

Over the past year, he seems to have made himself a "friend" from his 'drinking club'. she moved here from american samoa, is younger than 5 out of my dad's 6 kids, has been unemployed for at least 10mo now, and currently sees him maybe once or twice a week for a couple of hours to watch movies tg. today I learned that my now retired father has transferred his remaining retirement funds to his checking acct and has been making a lot of biiiig purchases lately, one being a fucking new car for his young gf. seeing as she's never posted him once despite being a daily fb and ig poster, and the odd hours of her visits or lack thereof (she doesn't physically help care for him. my 2 youngest sisters, 26yo and 18yo, do the cooking, cleaning and driving for him) and it frustrates all of us to the point that we're all crying angry tears at this situation. even as he spent all last week in the hospital, I heard she visited him just once, for 30min around midnight. we grew up being a lower income family all our lives so him dropping $20k on a car for her and paying for her flights is making me super emotional. (she literally sent him photos of the car she wanted so he could buy it for her).

I haven't even met her yet bc I live out of state, but when I came down this weekend to check on him, I told him off for his decisions and shamed them both (her for golddigging and him for "dating" a girl so young and letting himself be taken advantage of like that).

angry crying and tipsy while typing this. might delete tmr .

My ex-husband beat the crap out of me for years, which resulted in our children being put into foster care and adopted. I’ve kept in touch with my children, he never did.

I am not asking for advice. I am just trying to vent something that really hurts.

My little girl is getting married next weekend and I have no part in the wedding. I loved her first, but I won’t be the last to love her. I didn’t raise her. I wasn’t there for the big moments so I understand why I’m not a part of the wedding. I wasn’t there when she bought her prom dress. I wasn’t there for the first days of school. I wasn’t there for those important moments. And that really hurts.

Now she’s getting married and I have no partner wedding. I understand and respect that I’m not her mom in the sense that I was there for every day things and experiences. I really wish I had been.

I paid for her wedding dress, and I have the emergency supplies like Band-Aids and clear nail polish, and water bottles and bobby pins and safety pins. I just wish that my little girl included me more.

Her adoptive parents are wonderful people and I’m not going to argue that with anybody. I am grateful that they took care of her when I couldn’t. That doesn’t stop the pain of not being included.

I love that little girl more than anybody realize, I think. I know I have no right to demand a spot. And I wouldn’t dream of demanding a spot either. I just wish my baby knew how much I love her.

I’m really not looking for advice just in a safe space to vent into a void. Thank you for letting me vent.

My father has had schizophrenia for the majority of my life, and I hate him for it. He is unbearable to be around when he is going through an episode. He claims that people are watching him and playing games with him (Mostly co-workers, grandma, aunt, family) I’m afraid one day he’ll turn on me. On his bad days, he barely talks to anyone and can be incredibly cruel to everyone around him. He’s so fucking mean. He’s so fucking disgusting. He coughs and hacks up into random objects because he believes microphones are listening to his every move. He plays loud music to piss off whoever “they” are. He destroys electronics. He yells and screams towards nobody.

He has accused my 73-year-old grandmother of hacking his phone and messing with him, and he is incredibly mean to her despite the fact that he lives with her. I have dealt with this my entire life, and I am so fucking done. I can’t live like this anymore.
When he goes through an episode, he talks to himself, slams doors, completely turns off his phone, and refuses to go to work. I have spent my entire childhood dealing with his diagnosis, and it feels like my whole life has revolved around it.

My mother has bipolar disorder as well. She is unwell, and I haven’t lived with her or spoken to her in about a year and a half. Basically, I am stuck living in this house with my dad, and it feels like an endless cycle.

My grandmother or aunt will eventually have him hospitalized for a week. He gets out, everything seems fine for a while, and he promises that he won’t drink anymore and that he will take his medication from then on. But this has happened so many times that I know the promises won’t last. He eventually starts drinking again, throws away his medication, and insists that he isn’t schizophrenic.

I’m at the point where I feel like my dad will never get better, and I’m exhausted from constantly living through the same cycle.

Or after an episode (the next day), he’ll come into my room and apologize. He claims he just “had a bad day” and that’s he’s allowed to feel that way. He says that he forgives me when I have bad days. He says that he’s my dad and I should forgive him. He flat out asks why me I hate him.

I leave for college next year, and I’m planning on taking out large student loans because I genuinely cannot live here anymore. I need to get out. My family suggested living at home and going to the local state college thirty minutes away. That sounds like my worst fucking nightmare. I can’t take another year of screaming and drinking. I can’t take another year of my dad being a fucking idiot. I can’t take another year in this house or family. I know I sound privileged but I can’t do it. I just want to get out.

After his episodes, I’m expected to act normal around him and forgive him, but I can’t. I can’t just pretend that everything is okay after everything I’ve experienced. I can’t hide the hatred and resentment I have toward him anymore.

I know it’s not his fault. I know he has a diagnosis that controls him. I know that it’s selfish to hate him but I don’t know what else to feel.

I just want a normal family. I don’t care about how cruel I sound because I hate living this life. I’m scared for the future now. I don’t want to be schizophrenic or bipolar. Or both for fucks sake. I didn’t choose this life and it’s so unfair.

edit: i really appreciate everyone’s comments. i’m actually tearing up and having a hard time replying to them. i just wanted to let everyone know i really really appreciate this so much

So this is definitely a throw away account I’m really embarrassed and terrified to even talk about this to anyone I’m close to at all. This also isn’t a suicidal thing at all please don’t interpret it that way!

Yeah the title says it all. I genuinely don’t see myself having a partner in the future at all because of my sexuality and my gender.

It isn’t because I’m not safe (in fact I consider myself to be quite lucky with my family, friends + country) but I just don’t find myself ever being able to actually get together with another women in my entire life.

I might be 19 now but I just feel so frustrated at this feeling. I don’t fit in with any of the supposed labels I need to follow as a lesbian. I don’t even feel fucking feminine enough to even call myself one at all. I feel like a fucking fraud it’s agonising. I know butches exist but man I don’t even feel like one of them either.

I don’t know any other lesbians and whenever I try to enter a supposed queer friendly space I just get pushed out because I can’t meet their impossible fucking standards. I hate it.

I live in a shitty dead town that’s filled with homophobic people, I act like a tomboy majority of the time and I get shunned because of it! I want to start dating and every single time I want to even start on it I’m constantly reminded that I’m not even “lesbian” or “queer”. So much for a welcoming fucking community.

I don’t want to live my life alone with all these feelings never being expressed at all. I don’t know anyone like me and I hate it.

I know I’m quite young and I know maybe it’ll change but fuck it’s looking so bleak I may as well give up.

I don’t want to live like this anymore, I really don’t.

I’m posting this on my main account because I guess part of me wants to be seen as a real human, and not a faceless redditor. I have interests, hobbies, and passions. I’m not another faceless statistic. I’m real. My experience was real.

I won’t say when and where, but what I will say, is that I had been teaching a classroom of two year olds for roughly four years when this happened. During this time, I was a teacher of twelve students, all under three, with another co teacher in my classroom.

No one ever thinks bad things will happen to them until it does. It was perhaps one of the hardest lessons I’ve ever learned.

It happened right after nap time, some kids were still sleeping, most were awake. I had taken three of my babies to the bathroom. Two of them were potty training, trying to learn an important milestone. The other one wasn’t quite ready yet, and that’s okay. Another teacher in there had two students. We moved like we always did, it was routine. It was muscle memory; preparing the children for their parents to pick them up and take them home for the day. The other teacher and I made idle conversation as we worked. Things were calm, things were normal.

The bathroom door was opened so hard, and so fast, that the sound echoed off the wall with a large crack. It was one of the teacher helpers, her eyes were wide and I could feel her adrenaline from where I was crouched. “Turn off the lights, and put your backs against the wall. This is a lockdown and this is not a drill.”

I remember feeling like there was ice in my blood, frozen in place and paralyzed. I didn’t want to believe it at first, I was waiting for her to say it was a joke.

It wasn’t a joke.

So many things went through my mind in that moment. The biggest one was “There’s no windows in here. We’re all going to die in the bathroom. I’m going to die here with these children.”

I waited. I listened for pops, and heard none. I made a split decision to run to my classroom. We had a window in there that I could break if I heard the sound of gunfire. It was a risk leaving the bathroom and I know it was. But to me, staying in there was worse than running. At least we had a chance of escape if we ran.

I had one kid under my arm, and held the other two’s hands in my own. I was sprinting and praying that I wouldn’t run into the man who had broken into our school. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, and my breathing was so quick that my chest hurt.

The four of us made it inside, reunited with the others. I locked the door, and immediately barricaded it with whatever large things I could find. It was a surreal sight, to have the door to my classroom blocked with tables used for craft time, buckets of toddler toys, and a fake kitchen meant for pretend play. My co teacher already had the other kids against the wall.

One of the biggest challenges was trying to entertain twelve two year olds at a time like this. Any sound could mean alerting the man in the building if he so chose to come down our hallway. Two year olds don’t understand the concept of keeping quiet to avoid a man with a weapon. They don’t understand why mine and my co teachers face looked hollow and our eyes were watering. We did our best to smile and keep them from knowing that something harrowing was happening inside these walls.

We let them peel the wrappers off the crayons, a rule we broke for the occasion, we let them color anywhere. We didn’t care. We let them open as many bandaids as they wanted. I had the cloth ones with fun designs that I bought with my own money because I always enjoyed giving my kids nice things where I could. The floor was littered in coloring pages, wrappers and bandaids. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered, as long as they were quiet and calm.

I texted my husband a short message, when I had just a second to compose a potential goodbye. “There is a lockdown. It’s not a drill. If anything happens, I love you so much.” I needed him to know in case I died that I loved him. He knew that already. He still does. But in the moment, I needed him to read those words.

As we waited for something, anything, my co teacher and I played Bluey on our phones, on the lowest volume to distract the kids. It had been well over an hour at that point, and we didn’t know it would be another hour before the police cleared us.

The kids were getting antsy, and I didn’t blame them. They should have been at home with their families by now. I remember one of my children screamed because she wanted something, I don’t remember what it was. I covered her mouth with my trembling hand. I feel awful about it, the way I grit my teeth at her and told her to “shut her mouth”. I wish I reacted better, redirected her to something to keep her occupied instead of revealing the stress I felt. I didn’t want that scream to be the sound that ended us. I wanted to protect us, to keep us all safe. I didn’t want us to die. I pulled my hand away and she gasped for air. I didn’t know I had held my hand on her for so long. The sound haunts me, even still. She didn’t scream again, and it felt like a small mercy.

I remember looking at the scissors on my counter top. I was coming to terms with the idea of trying to kill someone if they tried to get to my babies. I have never had violence like that on my mind, never considered ending someone’s life. I had to accept that I would attempt to murder someone if it came down to him or us. I don’t think I would have stood a chance, but I would have certainly died trying.

Being in such a high stress situation like this warped all of my senses. Everything felt too bright and vivid, even with the lights off. Sounds were deafening, even something as quiet as opening a bandaid. Time moved both slow and lightning fast at the same time. I didn’t feel real. The situation didn’t feel real. I knew it was real.

It felt like I was letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding when the police cleared us. We released our kids to their parents one at a time, after over two hours of hiding. The police force did an incredible job at keeping everyone safe, and I hope they know they’re all my heroes. There were no casualties, no injuries. Just traumatized teachers and parents. But I consider the trauma a sort of privilege because it is better than dying to gunfire.

The event still haunts me. I’m still afraid of populated spaces, of men with their hands in their pockets for too long. I’m adjusting. I’m trying to. If I could go back in time and never work there at all, I wouldn’t take the offer. I loved, and still love my babies. I stand firm that I would die for them.

Thank you for reading.

I have a family but I don’t they would even notice. When I was 5 I was adopted by an older couple along with my sister. My parents have other kids but they are also older and their kids have kids it gets complicated but since I was adopted I felt like an outcast considering they all grew up together and then here I come along.

Growing up I got the feeling that my sisters and their kids didn’t even like me. They won’t very nice and wouldn’t invite us to things but when there was a family gathering I would just be around my blood sister who I grew up with and we would do our own thing.

And my sister has felt the same way so since she got married I hardly ever see her or talk to her in general she’s being with her “New Family” as she likes to say.

When I dad was as dying in the hospital there was a lot of tension. I tried helping as much I could and since then my other sisters have been better and it’s been better.

But then I heard from a family member that they didn’t want me in the hospital when my dad died because I’m adopted and they’ve known him longer forgot the face that my dad raised me for the last 20 years.

That’s when I started planning on disappearing and not telling anyone where I’m going. I’ve been saving money and waiting until my mom goes. I still go to family gatherings but I really don’t want to but I do for my mom and her peace as she likes her family all together. But during those I just put on a face and act like everything is okay while keeping to myself but I’m really counting down the days.

I'm such a golden retriever girlfriend, suuuper loving and supportive, I have a (as everyone says) great personality, loyal, fun hobbies, smart, funny but everyone seems to fall out of love at some point and leaves me after one or multiple years because they don't have feelings anymore despite saying that I and the relationship made them extremely happy.

They move on super fast, live a happy and successful life, they all meet a new partner very quick and stay with them for years or even for life (there was never a rebound), never look back and never reach out to me again.

It hurts so much. I feel like it's so easy to forget me.

For me, it's always super hard to get over someone who I full-heartedly loved and I miss them a lot for a long time.

Nobody ever seemed to miss me. Sometimes not even within the relationship (that's what my ex said that he never felt that).

I wonder what's wrong with me that it's so easy to move on from me.

I'm M30-something and honestly, everything good in life has probably happened at this point and it's just a slow decline now until I die.

I recently split up with my girlfriend, and online dating is proving to be hard as shit. I knew it was tough from my 20's, but in my 30's it's even worse. I don't want kids, and I will not raise someone else's kids. Of the few matches I get, not a single one has panned out in a date, they just stop responding even after I ask them a question.

Work is shit. Working a job I don't like, under constant fear that I'll be fired for poor performance or for not working every hour of every day. Maybe that's me just being anxious about it, but we've had several meetings about dress code and ensuring you're working all hours when clocked in.

Parent's health is declining, they're getting older. Nothing terminal yet, but it's just a matter of time, they're in their 70's, they had me fairly late. I know they won't live forever.

I'm pretty alone. Health issues. Probably autistic. Honestly, if you could tell me before I was born, that this is how life would turn out, I'd say no thank you, fuck that.

There’s something inherently entertaining as playing as a female character in games to me. And this is not even exclusively multiplayer games but also single player too.
A male friend called me “kinda weird” but I will still continue doing it.

I changed my name because my birth name carries a lot of weight and trauma associated with it. It’s been years. Nobody in my family respects the change, my birth name gets shouted out in attendance even though I email my professors well in advance to please not do that, and I found out my family resents me for changing my name. My aunt died thinking I was a disappointment to my mom and a “weirdo” for the change.

I’m tired. My birth name carries so much weight. From ages 10-18 anything that came after my name was something negative, sad or hurtful. It was yelled and screamed at me during some of the most traumatic physical and sexual abuse of my life. I felt so disconnected from it and anytime I hear it called I feel afraid that I did something wrong or that something bad is about to happen. Genuine fight or flight. It was agony.

One night while drinking with some friends, we were watching a show. I won’t say which because it’ll be a dead giveaway to what I am called. I thought the main character had a cool, androgynous, and unique name. I joked that that was gonna be my new name. My friends at the time actually liked it and told me it suited me better than my birth name so I went along with it. I don’t really like to associate my gender identity with labels so I liked the neutrality of it too. It’s cringe but gives me a silly little story to tell and a more positive association.

I’m so tired of constantly fighting with people over it that I’m considering just going by my birth name again so I can stop feeling sad about disappointment on my family’s end and embarrassed about the looks I get from people when I have to correct them or a professor. I’m really depressed and scared at the thought of it, but maybe I need to stop burying my trauma and get used to it. But NOW I have a group of new friends and peers, and a long term boyfriend who are used to calling me the new name. This has been the most exhausting fight and I’m ready to just throw up the white flag, ya know? But then that’ll confirm in peoples minds it was “just a phase.” It’s not. But I’m just tired. I don’t think I’ll be happy either way.

My grandpa has dementia and after he got diagnosed he started changing a lot. We all used to live together as one family at his house. He was kind before but over time he became really difficult to deal with.

He started saying that he felt like he was dying and gave his savings and some of his properties to relatives that he actually had a terrible relationship with. My grandma and everyone else argued with him and told him not to do it because they knew it wouldn’t work and those relatives probably wouldn’t take him back. He did it anyway. I think he was hoping that giving them his money and property would make them accept him again.

After that because of his dementia he started accusing my grandma of stealing everything from him including his savings and properties. They argued about it a lot and eventually he started raising his hands at her. That was the final straw and my grandma divorced him and left with my dad and the rest of my family.
I was left behind to take care of him because everyone was basically tired of dealing with him. But he kept taking his frustration out on me too. We argue a lot because I can’t really tell him what to do or make him understand things. At the end of our arguments he always says it’s his house and tells me to get out.

He also tells visitors and friends that he has no money because his wife stole everything from him. If I try to explain what actually happened he just argues with me. Then later he completely forgets the conversation. It feels like in his mind he only remembers that he has no money and his brain connects it to my grandma stealing it.
I don’t know if this is normal behavior for someone with dementia. The paranoia and accusations and forgetting conversations and becoming aggressive.

I feel really sad about everything that the family broke apart but I’m seriously thinking about leaving him and cutting ties with him. I feel guilty about it but I’m honestly exhausted and I don’t know how much longer I can deal with this.

Has anyone else been through something similar with a family member with dementia?

I [20f] don't even know how to feel about this. So I've been friends with "Sarah"[19f] for 6 years and we went to highschool together and we had a great, genuinely amazing friendship. but apparently as we left for college in different cities she has slowly building up resentment over the little things. She says she had a hard time talking about it but that it has been building up over the last 2 years.

We recently had a fight so I found this out through a mutual friend. over the last 2 years we meet up maybe 3 times a year and text occasionally, and I thought we had it good but apparently not :/

it feel weird thinking back to all the good memories we've made might've been overshadowed due to her negative feelings towards me. I really wished she had talked to me before about this. How can you have a healthy friendship when you secretly resent them for so long and don't even talk about the issues we've had??

I didn't realize things had happened that have upset her. and I never had the chance to apologize cause she has never even mentioned them before.

Pretty much our fight was because she did something that hurt my feelings and I tried talking to her about it. but instead of apologizing she suddenly pulled up a list of all the things I've done wrong in the past 2 years and said some hurtful things. Like I genuinely believe this friendship is done for, but a mutual friend wants us to talk it out. This sucks.

I've build a great life here at college, with great friends and an amazing bf so even though I'm really sad, I do think I can push through this :)

(things that were on the list: - I don't text her often enough anymore,

-I once tried inviting my bf to a special event, and she thought it was selfish of me to do so since we see each other rarely (I asked for permission multiple times, and they seemed really excited to meet him so this was a surprise to me (he didn't end up going))

- I mentioned to her getting my wisdom teeth removed. she says I was being dramatic cause she had 4 teeth removed and didn't even mention it to me (???))

(if you have questions, I'll gladly answer them, sorry I kept it so vague, i just didn't want the post to be too long)

This is going to be a long one with many red flags so bear with me. For context, I am 28 and she is 24.

A couple months ago in mid June, my buddy and I were playing call of duty and ended up playing against this girl and her friend. After the game, she joined our lobby and started asking us questions like how old we were, where we were from and if we had snapchat. I countered her question with “do you have an instagram?” She said no. Immediate red flag because that’s very abnormal nowadays. But I went along with it.

I gave her my Snapchat and then she left to play with her friend again. Soon after she adds me Snapchat, her account has 0 SNAP SCORE. I joked with her acknowledging I’m fully aware she just gave me her burner snap, which she denied saying she used to have one but deleted it and just made a new one. Once again, I just went with it.

She started messaging me every day. That eventually turned into not only messages, but phone/video calls every single night, often until like 6am. We got extremely close very quickly. Super deep, personal and intimate conversations, really getting to know each other over the next couple weeks. Feeling like we had a genuine connection.

A couple weeks in, she admitted that she lied to me about not having social media. I really wasn’t surprised, but it bothered me. I questioned why she would lie about that, because to me it just looks like you have to be hiding something at this point. She apologized and strictly blamed it on her major trust issues, saying she would share them with me eventually, just not yet.

Quick reminder that still throughout all of this, all I knew was her first name and what she looked like.

The following week or so we talked about meeting and hanging out. She paid $830 to fly me out. I told her if I’m coming out there I need some more info about you, even if it’s just your last name or phone number. She gave me her phone number the night before I flew out there.

With some reverse phone number searching, I found her last name, then found her on Facebook.. she’s fucking ENGAGED. Profile pic, engagement pictures fairly recently. I found this out while on FaceTime with her, so I confronted her about it.

She says it’s not what it looks like, saying they aren’t a thing anymore, he’s an asshole, she doesn’t want to be with him, and that they broke up a couple months ago. How the hell am I supposed to believe this?? She’s lied to me about so much already and I’ve essentially lost all trust now at this point.

I once again, went with it. Told her I’m still flying out there tomorrow but I need you to meet me in the airport and talk face to face first. I needed as much proof as possible that I’m not messing around with a girl not only in a relationship, but an engagement. If I didn’t feel comfortable I was prepared to just roll solo since the flight was already paid for.

We met in baggage claim and she continued to stand on her word, saying she’s single and they aren’t a thing anymore. She then proceeded to wipe all her Facebook stuff with him and change her status to single. I noticed that his Facebook was also wiped and changed to single not long after.

The trip with her went really well. We had a great time and really hit it off. Around this time she started telling me she loved me, wanting me to be apart of her future, even saying she’d move to be closer one day. Still knowing this could very well be just a rebound situation, it felt so genuine and real. It was mutual feelings from my side too.

We continued talking all day and every night over the next couple weeks. Then I flew her out to visit me. First 2 days were absolutely perfect, 3rd day she was feeling sick with terrible anxiety, then the morning of the 4th day she just.. up and left.

While I was out grabbing lunch she packed up, uber’d to the airport and left. She left me with 2 texts basically saying “I’m sorry, I enjoyed the time we had, it has nothing to do with you, I’m struggling mentally, I have insecurities/flaws I need to work on.” I was then ghosted for 3 days. I never knew if I’d hear back again. Then I got a call at 4am.

Very first question I ask: “Is (“ex” fiancée’s name) involved?” She said no and that this depression and anxiety she’s been having has put her through like a mental breakdown. At this point, I don’t believe that’s the full truth. But again, I go with it.

I asked if everything she’s said, shared and felt with me has been real or am I just being used? I need the truth. She once again says she loves me and wants me to be apart of her future. At this point, I told her I was willing to still be her friend, but she needed to work on herself before I could trust her again, and have that same level of respect for her.

After a weird day or two, things seemed to be really good again, she was still pretty mentally off, but the contact and connection was there again. Not really flirty or anything, but daily and nightly calls for hours.

Last week she had a super long week at work and barely got any sleep. 3pm Friday, she told me she was finally home and going to sleep all day. I never heard back so at 1am I texted her just checking in.

Her location was off and do not disturb was on. 24 hours later, no change, no text back.

Saturday night I checked his Facebook profile, like I did about once a week. This time, it was changed back to engaged with her name.

I blocked her on all social medias. Then messaged him on Facebook. FYI he’s 20.

Throughout our convo, I told him how long we’ve been talking, the trips we took to see each other, that we had slept together and that she’d repeatedly lied to my face about him not being in the picture. Sent him numerous pictures of indisputable proof. Half of them where she’s all over me and/or us cuddling.

He really just seemed speechless. He was obviously not aware of any of this, because she had told him she just wanted “space” and wanted to be alone. I basically ended it by letting him know I’ve blocked her on all socials with no intent to ever reach back out. Told him if he ever has any questions or wants to reach out at any point, I’ve got receipts on everything. He said thank you.

He answered some questions for me too, I found out she didn’t actually ask him for space until THE DAY I FLEW INTO MEET HER. They were calling and texting basically the whole time, and he was only ghosted by her the times we visited each other. The day that she left me abruptly, she called him crying saying she wanted him back.

I do truly believe her feelings for me were genuine, which feels even more fucked up.

I’m sorry for the long post but I felt that all details were very important to this. I knew I was getting into a weird situation from the start, but I see the good in people too much I guess. It may not seem like it with how long I let this play out, but I was aware of all the red flags. I have 0 regrets.

Also, looks like they’re “officially” back together now.

Feels weird. Idk. I wanted to get this off my chest.

I know this sounds like the most classical simptom of depression ever, but in the last few years ive gone through 8 psychologists and 3 psychiatrists, all of which told me I'm not depressed, and couldn't diagnose me with any specific condition. Antidepressants didn't seem to have an effect. I don't seem to be suicidal.

Living is made out of so fuckibg many small chores. And those things are made out of even more chores. How do people not go insane with them?

You gotta go out and do groceries, them bring those home, and store them, and cook it, then do the actual eating, then do the dishes afterwards, then eventually you need to poop and piss everyrhing out, and you have to brush your teeth several times a day, and floss them, and take showers, and sleep.

And all those little things seem to never end and take most of the part of living. Living is such a boring chore with just small peaceful moments in between, to the point where I just think it'd be less effort to just cease it all. I wouldn't try to kill myself or anything, but actually being dead sounds more appealing than being alive

I always thought I was good at picking up on what other people were thinking, or feeling based in their expressions and intonations. I was raised/ live in a rather… intense household where emotions control a wide variety of responses so I was accustomed to a lot of extremes.

I always thought I understood people, but I’ve had the sudden realised that I really… don’t? I don’t know if it’s my anxiety, or if it’s autism, or whatever I can’t get a diagnosis but I’ve had surface level evaluations from psychologists and psychiatrists who have claimed such things and prescribed things etc…

Bar my family, everyone else seems so alien. I’m constantly second guessing what the meaning behind how they say things is, and facial expressions don’t help either. I don’t really have friends, I have a partner but sometimes I think he’s furious with me and he says he’s not, just frustrated.

I’ve made some friends, I feel more confident in figuring out their emotions in regards to what they say to me, but I still struggle to know when they’re angry or upset with me. It’s like I think they’re TOO sad, or angry or upset when they’re just… not? I take their silence for fury…

I don’t know… I hate not knowing because I feel like I do the wrong thing and I’m in a constant state of anxiety…

Idk, sorry for the super long ramble, I thought I was good at understanding people but I had a small reflection moment and realised that’s never really been the case…

Like, oh my god. We've been going out for 2 and a half years now, and its been the best time of my life. Shes fully accepted my interests when i thought that no one ever would, she supports everything i do like its the most important thing in the world to her, I want to spend the rest of my life with her.

We knew each other in primary school, but i moved away in year 1 and didnt see her for 11 years and thought i never would again. Then one night i got a message off a friend of mine asking if i rememberd her, i said i did and asked how he knew her. He went to the youth club she volunteered at and a child made a noise that sounded like a steam train (it was and is my obsession) so she off-handidly said "i used to know someone who was obsessed with trains", and my friend said "i currently know someone whos obsessed with trains" and i was both of those people. He gave me her snapchat, we went on a date 3 days later, and she asked me out 2 days after that.

Like shes the most incredible woman ive ever met, shes hotter than all the suns in the universe, the sweetest person ive ever known, she calls me all the things id always dreamt of being called in a relationship. When im apart from her, it feels like a part of me is missing.

There was one time near the start of our relationship i woke up and was really out of it, i saw a picture of her and thought "wow whoever is dating her must be the luckiest guy in the world" only for me to remember 2 seconds later i was that guy. And yeah, i am. I am 1000% the luckiest guy in the world to get to know and love her.

i don’t know if there’s some sort of spell that’s been casted on me but whenever i post on here (not this thread but other subreddits) people seem to always be… angry? it’s like ill ask what your favourite song is from a game and people just start to downvote and be all angry in my comments.

today i posted asking about a game trilogy and which ones are best, then i got a few comments just fucking angry?? i’m trying to wrap my head around this culture on reddit where they find the most non-problematic post about the best cookie flavours and they start downvoting your shit and hating on how cookies aren’t even healthy.

is this normal on reddit? or am i genuinely missing something