In memory of poems for dad
American Dad!
2011.02.11 22:14 atom- American Dad!
For fans of the show American Dad! Doive on in!
2014.05.24 05:26 Motha_Effin_Kitty_Yo Reflexes only fathers have.
2010.07.17 19:37 Hardwarily Daddit
/daddit is now currently open
2024.05.14 07:26 TheyTookMyFibula Update on undiagnosed father who is rapidly declining
I posted a week ago about the difficult situation with our father and my sibling and I not knowing what to do. From this subreddit and the dementia subreddit, I received a lot of really helpful guidance.
My sibling and I contacted his PCP and they advised us to call 911 for an ambulance and tell them that he’s no longer safe living with us. We received similar guidance in the subreddits and it was probably the most difficult act of our adult lives thus far. I was in tears on the phone with his PCP’s staff, I was in tears when calling 911, and I could barely get the words out when explaining things to the paramedics.
The two paramedics who responded were absolutely amazing. I explained the situation but became very emotional and one of them proceeded to share that they were going through a similar situation with their parent as well. The other paramedic kept our dad calm and engaged him in talking about art. It was really wonderful to see. They transported him to a closer hospital, which has been significantly better for our father and us. The staff is much kinder, the rooms are nicer and cleaner, and everyone has just been so kind and attentive. He was assigned a case manager the following morning and she’s been helping us since.
As of right now, dad’s still in the hospital and the case worker is trying to place him in a rehabilitation home. A MoCA screening was conducted over the weekend and we’d assumed he’d score somewhere around 15-17, but he scored a 10 so now we’re trying to figure out the next steps. Because of his unusual immigration status (his birth country has a weird treaty with the US), he qualifies for Medicaid but not Medicaid long-term care and we can’t afford the $10k/month for a memory care facility.
We also spoke with his hospital case manager to reiterate how our mother has neglected and been verbally/emotionally abusive of our father. His Medicaid/Medicare applications are in and he’s covered by her insurance through the month of May. So at least we know that all isn’t lost if she has one of her typical knee-jerk reactions and tries to boot him from her insurance. Also, his DPOAs are now on file. No AHCD, mainly because our parents don’t have assets. Our mother hasn’t called to check on him in over a week now, and we don’t expect that she will until after we start notifying his family.
Things are happening so quickly, it’s been hard to process anything or really adjust. We’ve been visiting him twice a day, every day, for the past week. The day visits are rough, but the night visits have been the most difficult. Last night, he was extremely agitated and we had to ask the nurse on duty how to best talk to our father when he’s in that state.
He’s always been such a mellow, quiet, thoughtful man who never swears and is so concerned about the state of the world. But that dad is worlds apart from the person we’ve been visiting and it’s hard to accept that we may never get to have conversations with him like we used to…
So that’s where things are for us now. Everything is scary, sad, and heartbreaking. We have to start notifying his family and I spent a lot of the weekend rehearsing these conversations in my head. They all end with everyone more scared, more sad, and heartbroken. And I know that’s the reality of the situation, but everything just feels so damn bleak.
submitted by TheyTookMyFibula to CaregiverSupport [link] [comments]
My sibling and I contacted his PCP and they advised us to call 911 for an ambulance and tell them that he’s no longer safe living with us. We received similar guidance in the subreddits and it was probably the most difficult act of our adult lives thus far. I was in tears on the phone with his PCP’s staff, I was in tears when calling 911, and I could barely get the words out when explaining things to the paramedics.
The two paramedics who responded were absolutely amazing. I explained the situation but became very emotional and one of them proceeded to share that they were going through a similar situation with their parent as well. The other paramedic kept our dad calm and engaged him in talking about art. It was really wonderful to see. They transported him to a closer hospital, which has been significantly better for our father and us. The staff is much kinder, the rooms are nicer and cleaner, and everyone has just been so kind and attentive. He was assigned a case manager the following morning and she’s been helping us since.
As of right now, dad’s still in the hospital and the case worker is trying to place him in a rehabilitation home. A MoCA screening was conducted over the weekend and we’d assumed he’d score somewhere around 15-17, but he scored a 10 so now we’re trying to figure out the next steps. Because of his unusual immigration status (his birth country has a weird treaty with the US), he qualifies for Medicaid but not Medicaid long-term care and we can’t afford the $10k/month for a memory care facility.
We also spoke with his hospital case manager to reiterate how our mother has neglected and been verbally/emotionally abusive of our father. His Medicaid/Medicare applications are in and he’s covered by her insurance through the month of May. So at least we know that all isn’t lost if she has one of her typical knee-jerk reactions and tries to boot him from her insurance. Also, his DPOAs are now on file. No AHCD, mainly because our parents don’t have assets. Our mother hasn’t called to check on him in over a week now, and we don’t expect that she will until after we start notifying his family.
Things are happening so quickly, it’s been hard to process anything or really adjust. We’ve been visiting him twice a day, every day, for the past week. The day visits are rough, but the night visits have been the most difficult. Last night, he was extremely agitated and we had to ask the nurse on duty how to best talk to our father when he’s in that state.
He’s always been such a mellow, quiet, thoughtful man who never swears and is so concerned about the state of the world. But that dad is worlds apart from the person we’ve been visiting and it’s hard to accept that we may never get to have conversations with him like we used to…
So that’s where things are for us now. Everything is scary, sad, and heartbreaking. We have to start notifying his family and I spent a lot of the weekend rehearsing these conversations in my head. They all end with everyone more scared, more sad, and heartbroken. And I know that’s the reality of the situation, but everything just feels so damn bleak.
2024.05.14 07:12 TheyTookMyFibula Update on undiagnosed, rapidly declining father
I’d posted about a week ago about the difficult situation with our father and not knowing what to do. From this subreddit and the caregiver support subreddit, I received a lot of really helpful guidance.
My sibling and I contacted his PCP and they advised us to call 911 for an ambulance and tell them that he’s no longer safe living with us. (This is essentially what we’d tried telling the ER the night before and they insisted that he just had arthritis and to give him two extra strength Tylenol.) We went to his room to talk to him and found that he’d slid onto the floor from his guard-railed bed… So we called for emergency services.
The two paramedics who responded were absolutely amazing. I explained the situation but became very emotional and one of them proceeded to share that they were going through a similar situation with their parent as well. The other paramedic kept our dad calm and engaged him in talking about art. It was really wonderful to see. They transported him to a closer hospital, which has been significantly better for our father and us. The staff is much kinder, the rooms are nicer and cleaner, and everyone has just been so kind and attentive. He was assigned a case manager the following morning and she’s been helping us since.
As of right now, dad’s still in the hospital and the case worker is trying to place him in a rehabilitation home. A MoCA screening was conducted over the weekend and we’d assumed he’d score somewhere around 15-17, but he scored a 10 so now we’re trying to figure out the next steps. Because of his unusual immigration status (his birth country has a weird treaty with the US), he qualifies for Medicaid but not Medicaid long-term care and we can’t afford the $10k/month for a memory care facility.
We also spoke with his hospital case manager to reiterate how our mother has neglected and been verbally/emotionally abusive of our father. His Medicaid/Medicare applications are in and he’s covered by her insurance through the month of May. So at least we know that all isn’t lost if she has one of her typical knee-jerk reactions and tries to boot him from her insurance. Also, his DPOAs are now on file. No AHCD, mainly because our parents don’t have assets. Our mother hasn’t called to check on him in over a week now, and we don’t expect that she will until after we start notifying his family.
Things are happening so quickly, it’s been hard to process anything or really adjust. We’ve been visiting him twice a day, every day, for the past week. The day visits are rough, but the night visits have been the most difficult. Last night, he was extremely agitated and we had to ask the nurse on duty how to best talk to our father when he’s in that state.
He’s always been such a mellow, quiet, thoughtful man who never swears and is so concerned about the state of the world. But that dad is worlds apart from the person we’ve been visiting and it’s hard to accept that we may never get to have conversations with him like we used to…
So that’s where things are for us now. Everything is scary and sad and heartbreaking. And eventually, we have to start notifying his family and break their hearts too. 😓
submitted by TheyTookMyFibula to dementia [link] [comments]
My sibling and I contacted his PCP and they advised us to call 911 for an ambulance and tell them that he’s no longer safe living with us. (This is essentially what we’d tried telling the ER the night before and they insisted that he just had arthritis and to give him two extra strength Tylenol.) We went to his room to talk to him and found that he’d slid onto the floor from his guard-railed bed… So we called for emergency services.
The two paramedics who responded were absolutely amazing. I explained the situation but became very emotional and one of them proceeded to share that they were going through a similar situation with their parent as well. The other paramedic kept our dad calm and engaged him in talking about art. It was really wonderful to see. They transported him to a closer hospital, which has been significantly better for our father and us. The staff is much kinder, the rooms are nicer and cleaner, and everyone has just been so kind and attentive. He was assigned a case manager the following morning and she’s been helping us since.
As of right now, dad’s still in the hospital and the case worker is trying to place him in a rehabilitation home. A MoCA screening was conducted over the weekend and we’d assumed he’d score somewhere around 15-17, but he scored a 10 so now we’re trying to figure out the next steps. Because of his unusual immigration status (his birth country has a weird treaty with the US), he qualifies for Medicaid but not Medicaid long-term care and we can’t afford the $10k/month for a memory care facility.
We also spoke with his hospital case manager to reiterate how our mother has neglected and been verbally/emotionally abusive of our father. His Medicaid/Medicare applications are in and he’s covered by her insurance through the month of May. So at least we know that all isn’t lost if she has one of her typical knee-jerk reactions and tries to boot him from her insurance. Also, his DPOAs are now on file. No AHCD, mainly because our parents don’t have assets. Our mother hasn’t called to check on him in over a week now, and we don’t expect that she will until after we start notifying his family.
Things are happening so quickly, it’s been hard to process anything or really adjust. We’ve been visiting him twice a day, every day, for the past week. The day visits are rough, but the night visits have been the most difficult. Last night, he was extremely agitated and we had to ask the nurse on duty how to best talk to our father when he’s in that state.
He’s always been such a mellow, quiet, thoughtful man who never swears and is so concerned about the state of the world. But that dad is worlds apart from the person we’ve been visiting and it’s hard to accept that we may never get to have conversations with him like we used to…
So that’s where things are for us now. Everything is scary and sad and heartbreaking. And eventually, we have to start notifying his family and break their hearts too. 😓
2024.05.14 06:51 BionicJaden I (25F) have trust issues and trouble socializing. How can I make new friends? (20f)
Note: To make it less confusing and for privacy reasons, names of cities/areas are given fake names.
My family and I (25F) are going to be moving to Oakville in the next couple of months. I’m not excited about it. Mainly because I’m going to be farther away from my boyfriend whom I love dearly, but also because I’m going to be extremely lonely once we move.
When I was about 4, my family moved to Stoneway where I spent the majority of my life there. Then, in 2020, we had to move to Grayton (about 32 minutes away from Stoneway). I had to say goodbye to my close friends whom I’ve grown up with since elementary and high school, something I never thought I had to do so that was hard on me emotionally. When we moved to Grayton I was extremely lonely and had a hard time adjusting to the new home. I don't like major changes, and I felt homesick for my old house and friends. I don't know if it's normal to feel that way as an adult, I felt like a kid.
After living in this area for about 4 years, I've gotten used to it. I don't love it, I find the area very boring. I still miss Stoneway. Now, my dad recently found a new workplace, in Oakville. I've never been there, I don't know what the area or people there are like. When I found out that we were going to move again, I looked on google maps to see how far is Oakville from where my boyfriend and our friend group live (Summerdale). And depending on what street we move to, it's about 55 minutes to an hour by car...
While this has pushed me further to get my driver's license, with the way that I am, I'm going to be lonely and unhappy in Oakville. Sure, I could always go visit places alone, but I can only do that so much to the point that I start wishing I had my friends with me. And since my friends are adults, some of them are either still in school or working full-time jobs, and some of them might not be willing to drive that far (gas is hella expensive in my province) or take a bus for 2 hours.
I thought about downloading BumbleBFF, but didn’t because A) the idea of paying money every month just to use an app to make friends sounds weirdly dystopian to me, and B) I’m very cautious over people online/apps because, for all I know, they could be a liar or looking for their next victim.
Some important context: I have mild autism, which affects how I socialize with some people. I’m not a social butterfly but I find that when I’m introduced to/meet the right people, I can keep a conversation going. Another reason that I’m not going to go into why because it’s extremely personal, is that I also have major trust issues when it comes to making friends.
I want to make friends in the new area so that I don’t have to go to places alone all the time, so that I won’t feel sad every time I see friends having fun, so that I don’t waste my life rotting in bed and going to work when I could be going to events with people who like me and making memories.
But the thought of having to open myself up to someone who may have negative intentions, or could later turn out to be a bad friend, or something worse… terrifies me.
TLDR; I'm a 25F who is moving to a new city and wants to make new friends in that area, but I have issues socializing and trusting people.
Any advice is appreciated <3
submitted by BionicJaden to relationship_advice [link] [comments]
My family and I (25F) are going to be moving to Oakville in the next couple of months. I’m not excited about it. Mainly because I’m going to be farther away from my boyfriend whom I love dearly, but also because I’m going to be extremely lonely once we move.
When I was about 4, my family moved to Stoneway where I spent the majority of my life there. Then, in 2020, we had to move to Grayton (about 32 minutes away from Stoneway). I had to say goodbye to my close friends whom I’ve grown up with since elementary and high school, something I never thought I had to do so that was hard on me emotionally. When we moved to Grayton I was extremely lonely and had a hard time adjusting to the new home. I don't like major changes, and I felt homesick for my old house and friends. I don't know if it's normal to feel that way as an adult, I felt like a kid.
After living in this area for about 4 years, I've gotten used to it. I don't love it, I find the area very boring. I still miss Stoneway. Now, my dad recently found a new workplace, in Oakville. I've never been there, I don't know what the area or people there are like. When I found out that we were going to move again, I looked on google maps to see how far is Oakville from where my boyfriend and our friend group live (Summerdale). And depending on what street we move to, it's about 55 minutes to an hour by car...
While this has pushed me further to get my driver's license, with the way that I am, I'm going to be lonely and unhappy in Oakville. Sure, I could always go visit places alone, but I can only do that so much to the point that I start wishing I had my friends with me. And since my friends are adults, some of them are either still in school or working full-time jobs, and some of them might not be willing to drive that far (gas is hella expensive in my province) or take a bus for 2 hours.
I thought about downloading BumbleBFF, but didn’t because A) the idea of paying money every month just to use an app to make friends sounds weirdly dystopian to me, and B) I’m very cautious over people online/apps because, for all I know, they could be a liar or looking for their next victim.
Some important context: I have mild autism, which affects how I socialize with some people. I’m not a social butterfly but I find that when I’m introduced to/meet the right people, I can keep a conversation going. Another reason that I’m not going to go into why because it’s extremely personal, is that I also have major trust issues when it comes to making friends.
I want to make friends in the new area so that I don’t have to go to places alone all the time, so that I won’t feel sad every time I see friends having fun, so that I don’t waste my life rotting in bed and going to work when I could be going to events with people who like me and making memories.
But the thought of having to open myself up to someone who may have negative intentions, or could later turn out to be a bad friend, or something worse… terrifies me.
TLDR; I'm a 25F who is moving to a new city and wants to make new friends in that area, but I have issues socializing and trusting people.
Any advice is appreciated <3
2024.05.14 06:19 Complete_Guitar_1181 I caught my narcissist mom in a lie and now I don't know what to do
I caught my narcissist mom in a lie and I don't know what to do.
I need help and opinions. Thanks for reading if you do!
In the last year or so, I've recovered some bad memories of my childhood and some of that was preceded and followed by other bad memories of growing up with my mom and dad, Mostly my mom, and have realized that she is a narcissist among other things.
I am also currently in nursing school and if anyone has been through a grueling education process, you'll understand that your time cannot be on what you want or what other people want it to be all the time. It is 2 full time jobs worth of studying, sometimes more, on top of 2+ jobs and other responsibilities. Due to this, our relationship is growing further strained because I am not able to do what she wants me to do when she wants me to do it. She guilt trips me for studying or even just taking care of my mental health, and consistently interrupts or even stops me from studying all together. I do not study at home anymore due to that and so she guilt trips me when I come home from work or school for not being here to help or whatever it is. The thing is, I've tried to do it all plus school and multiple jobs. I can't. I almost failed my last semester because I did everything she wanted to me to do all the time bc I figured it would be easier. Obviously it wasn't. It is a lot to type out so this not everything that happened but gives you a little bit of background.
Well there has been a couple of big fights, a lot actually. And it's mentally messed with me. Now I'm at a point where I don't let it bother me too much outwardly but can't help but let it bother me on the inside sometimes. So much so, that I've decided it's time for my sister, her son and I to get an apartment. I think my parents and I's relationship would be better if I weren't here. And I told them that.
Now all of a sudden, my mom has started with this desperate campaign to show me how much of a waste of money it would be for me to move out and pushing on me that if I'm not going to buy their house that they're either going to keep it til they die (another trigger for me) or sell it to someone in the family. Earlier today, she told me that my cousin wants to buy the house. I told her, yes that's a good idea because when we get our apartment, that they could move out and get a different house and if I wanted to buy the house later on, I could. Well, apparently, she didn't expect that reaction from me. I told her that it was a good idea and she was flabbergasted. She stopped talking about that and moved on.
A few days ago, one of the fights she started was about the fact that she had accidentally taken one of my scrubs and dried them, which I dont do. I hang dry them. It wasn't a big deal to me. I just rewashed them and had to retrain the fabric again. Not a big deal but it was made a big deal bc i had to rewash them, wasting time and money. She freaks out and when I tell her that she is literally freaking out about NOTHING, it makes her angrier bc how dare I tell her that? How dare I say that she made a mistake, no matter how small it is. This blew up into her refusing to accept a mother's day gift or even read a card until I let her belittle and scream at me that I've changed and how horrible of a daughter I am, how I'm using my studying as a crutch to not do anything (even though I do), and how much I've hurt her by not doing what she wants me to do. She also said, along with my dad, that I am a narcissist because I'm setting boundaries that I do not want to talk about anything political and have to make hard boundaries about studying... in order for me to pass my classes, mind you. Only after an hour and a half of her and my dad belittling me and telling me how I've changed for the worse and how much I've hurt her, did she open the card and say "thanks for the beautiful card." She initially refused to take my card but took my sister's, literally in my face, and took the time to read everything out loud from her card before saying she will not read mine because I don't care about her or love her. This is a tactic she does often to try to pin my sister and I against each other. This is not everything, but more for background.
Her M.O. is to push the blame onto me about absolutely everything. And I mean, EVERYTHING. Even stuff that has nothing to do with me. Well, today she tried that but I caught her in a lie instead.
I had done some of mine and my sisters clothes right before she came down and I had a pair of scrubs under a sweater on the dryer that I hadn't put away yet. When she went into the laundry room to switch her laundry over (because she also tries to gatekeep the laundry room,) she lied and told me that she had just pulled the scrubs out of the dryer and said that even I mess up because I had actually put her clothes in the dryer and I hadn't taken them out. Of course she doesn't know that I knew those scrubs were NOT in that load and were already done previously.
It blew my mind.
I know she's done this before but my mind is so lost on how many times I thought I was just crazy or maybe thought I remembered wrong. And she's done this about everything. For my entire life. But I never caught her like this before.
It spiraled me and kicked up some other memories. Not good ones.
But now, every time she talks to me, I feel disgusted and angry. I can't do anything other than laugh because if I show emotion, especially the one I want, it won't end well and I'll end up being kicked out or something. But she also has an issue with me laughing with everything she says (which I would too, but I don't know how else to react). I can't believe a damn thing she says, which I thought I didn't before, but now it's so... open, is the best descriptive word I can say. I'm not exactly sure how else to describe it.
What do I do? I'm reeling. I made an appt with my therapist on Thursday but I realized today is MONDAY. I'm not sure if I can do this til Thursday.
I am not allowing myself to dive through more memories bc who knows what else I'll uncover.
Do I tell her I know? Would it help, would it make it worse? How do I stop myself from reacting to every little thing she says. I cringe and shiver even she says she loves me. It's a big physical reaction. Same when she tries the desperate thing. I can't help but laugh. I have to because otherwise I'd scream or end up sobbing. What do I do?
Has anyone been in this situation?? I need help.
I am so sorry if this does not make sense. I work overnight and haven't slept more than 2 hrs in two days. If I didn't answer something or you have questions about something, let me know and I'll answer. I need help on how to move on from this. Thank you in advance.
submitted by Complete_Guitar_1181 to raisedbynarcissists [link] [comments]
I need help and opinions. Thanks for reading if you do!
In the last year or so, I've recovered some bad memories of my childhood and some of that was preceded and followed by other bad memories of growing up with my mom and dad, Mostly my mom, and have realized that she is a narcissist among other things.
I am also currently in nursing school and if anyone has been through a grueling education process, you'll understand that your time cannot be on what you want or what other people want it to be all the time. It is 2 full time jobs worth of studying, sometimes more, on top of 2+ jobs and other responsibilities. Due to this, our relationship is growing further strained because I am not able to do what she wants me to do when she wants me to do it. She guilt trips me for studying or even just taking care of my mental health, and consistently interrupts or even stops me from studying all together. I do not study at home anymore due to that and so she guilt trips me when I come home from work or school for not being here to help or whatever it is. The thing is, I've tried to do it all plus school and multiple jobs. I can't. I almost failed my last semester because I did everything she wanted to me to do all the time bc I figured it would be easier. Obviously it wasn't. It is a lot to type out so this not everything that happened but gives you a little bit of background.
Well there has been a couple of big fights, a lot actually. And it's mentally messed with me. Now I'm at a point where I don't let it bother me too much outwardly but can't help but let it bother me on the inside sometimes. So much so, that I've decided it's time for my sister, her son and I to get an apartment. I think my parents and I's relationship would be better if I weren't here. And I told them that.
Now all of a sudden, my mom has started with this desperate campaign to show me how much of a waste of money it would be for me to move out and pushing on me that if I'm not going to buy their house that they're either going to keep it til they die (another trigger for me) or sell it to someone in the family. Earlier today, she told me that my cousin wants to buy the house. I told her, yes that's a good idea because when we get our apartment, that they could move out and get a different house and if I wanted to buy the house later on, I could. Well, apparently, she didn't expect that reaction from me. I told her that it was a good idea and she was flabbergasted. She stopped talking about that and moved on.
A few days ago, one of the fights she started was about the fact that she had accidentally taken one of my scrubs and dried them, which I dont do. I hang dry them. It wasn't a big deal to me. I just rewashed them and had to retrain the fabric again. Not a big deal but it was made a big deal bc i had to rewash them, wasting time and money. She freaks out and when I tell her that she is literally freaking out about NOTHING, it makes her angrier bc how dare I tell her that? How dare I say that she made a mistake, no matter how small it is. This blew up into her refusing to accept a mother's day gift or even read a card until I let her belittle and scream at me that I've changed and how horrible of a daughter I am, how I'm using my studying as a crutch to not do anything (even though I do), and how much I've hurt her by not doing what she wants me to do. She also said, along with my dad, that I am a narcissist because I'm setting boundaries that I do not want to talk about anything political and have to make hard boundaries about studying... in order for me to pass my classes, mind you. Only after an hour and a half of her and my dad belittling me and telling me how I've changed for the worse and how much I've hurt her, did she open the card and say "thanks for the beautiful card." She initially refused to take my card but took my sister's, literally in my face, and took the time to read everything out loud from her card before saying she will not read mine because I don't care about her or love her. This is a tactic she does often to try to pin my sister and I against each other. This is not everything, but more for background.
Her M.O. is to push the blame onto me about absolutely everything. And I mean, EVERYTHING. Even stuff that has nothing to do with me. Well, today she tried that but I caught her in a lie instead.
I had done some of mine and my sisters clothes right before she came down and I had a pair of scrubs under a sweater on the dryer that I hadn't put away yet. When she went into the laundry room to switch her laundry over (because she also tries to gatekeep the laundry room,) she lied and told me that she had just pulled the scrubs out of the dryer and said that even I mess up because I had actually put her clothes in the dryer and I hadn't taken them out. Of course she doesn't know that I knew those scrubs were NOT in that load and were already done previously.
It blew my mind.
I know she's done this before but my mind is so lost on how many times I thought I was just crazy or maybe thought I remembered wrong. And she's done this about everything. For my entire life. But I never caught her like this before.
It spiraled me and kicked up some other memories. Not good ones.
But now, every time she talks to me, I feel disgusted and angry. I can't do anything other than laugh because if I show emotion, especially the one I want, it won't end well and I'll end up being kicked out or something. But she also has an issue with me laughing with everything she says (which I would too, but I don't know how else to react). I can't believe a damn thing she says, which I thought I didn't before, but now it's so... open, is the best descriptive word I can say. I'm not exactly sure how else to describe it.
What do I do? I'm reeling. I made an appt with my therapist on Thursday but I realized today is MONDAY. I'm not sure if I can do this til Thursday.
I am not allowing myself to dive through more memories bc who knows what else I'll uncover.
Do I tell her I know? Would it help, would it make it worse? How do I stop myself from reacting to every little thing she says. I cringe and shiver even she says she loves me. It's a big physical reaction. Same when she tries the desperate thing. I can't help but laugh. I have to because otherwise I'd scream or end up sobbing. What do I do?
Has anyone been in this situation?? I need help.
I am so sorry if this does not make sense. I work overnight and haven't slept more than 2 hrs in two days. If I didn't answer something or you have questions about something, let me know and I'll answer. I need help on how to move on from this. Thank you in advance.
2024.05.14 06:13 Expensive_Catch_3547 My mother / my abuser
Well I guess that I have to start somewhere, so why not the end! I’ve been disowned for the umpteenth time by my parents (or rather by my mum because over the years, Dad has just learned to go along with whatever she says out of duress!) This has all been as a result of my having visited them in Hay ( a 700 kilometre round trip might I add) because my Dad’s brother passed away this week and it was Mother’s Day. I thought that I’d go to show my condolences and to wish my mother and sister who also lives there a happy Mother’s Day and bring them all some hand made gifts, I’m a bit sentimental like that.
I have taken to the craft of making pebble art. The gift that I made for my mother was of an image depicting my family with my parents, my sister and I and my brother who’s passed away, as he is handing my mum a bunch of flowers. I made one for my dad depicting he and my Nan (his mother) fishing at their favourite fishing spot; my Nan passed away just last month as well and I thought it’d be a nice gesture, then I gave my sister one as well with a quote about sisters being joined by the heart.
The first day, Friday, that my husband, daughter and I came there was okay. It always is especially when I’ve not seen them for six months or more! We catch up, mum talks about her very many health conditions, she then complains a little bit about everything and everyone but it’s not over the top at this point because she and my dad are kept busy opening gifts and seemingly happy to see us! But we had decided before coming that we were going to stay in separate accommodation for the weekend with the knowledge that things with my mother usually go sour very quickly! And if we’re not having to stay at their home when it does then we can at least retain some mental stability throughout our trip! This would normally be a point in which I’d let out a bit of a chuckle or if I’m texting or writing a social media post, that I’d add the LOL at the end of that statement, simply due to the stupid realisation that unfortunately it is so very true that it’s almost comical, remembering in my mind the very many times that her very predictable unstable behaviour kicks in at around the 24 hour mark and doesn’t often dissipate until well after we’ve left if not months later! I have no clue as to why I’m still surprised by this occurrence?! Perhaps it’s because it is so unbelievably erratic and shocking to anyone that witnesses it that still even now it’s hard not only to watch unfold but to believe!
But sadly as a result of these personally flips, she lashes out in anger, she can become nasty and callous, her comments are cold and uncaring, she can become physically aggressive, and the damage done during these times can be hard to ever overcome, especially if she aims any comment or remark at you! It is during these times that you know in your soul that she has not a single care for you, not an ounce, and that the only attention or compassion shown towards you as her child or friend is one of obligation out of her need to keep up appearances with those who are still weaved in her web of “social media” deception! She wouldn’t dare lift a finger for anyone in person! But just the fact that we pre decided to obtain alternative accommodation was possibly one of the triggers I was already prepared would set her off, as we would usually choose to stay with her and dad in their spare room over crowded with belongings of the past and present, not unlike the rest of their home.
With this alone, one would see that she has an overwhelming need to retain old memories, be them bad or good. She still literally keeps every ounce of clothing I’ve ever passed on to her since well before I had children which was 27 years ago! Looking in her wardrobe, there are outfits there I remember her wearing when I was a teenager! Her bathroom still retains the $2 gifts (still in their packaging) that us kids bought for her from school Mother’s Day stalls, and the Mary Kay makeup I used to steal when I was attending high school!
Her kitchen still holds the Amway cookware she purchased for hundreds of dollars before I can remember! And to make matters worse, even some of the food in her pantry is from supermarkets no longer operating! Over the years, her hoarding has been a bit of a thorn in dad’s side, having lived a life of drifting from house to house, town to town, moving around as often as they have, having to cart it all along with them and something us kids (myself, my brother and sister) have always found funny to pick on her about, but in writing this, it is easy to see that her need to keep the past fresh in her mind and under her nose is a sickness all In itself.
Whilst we were visiting, we visited my sister in her little unit. It’s like walking back into the 70s and equally as much as a step back in time like my mother’s house! My sister has been diagnosed with schizophrenia which when first diagnosed was apparently drug induced, however; going from the lifestyle we were forced to live as the children to my parents and their lifestyle choices plus my brother and I having been diagnosed with conditions and disorders of our own, putting the puzzle pieces together as to how we’ve all accumulated mental health diagnoses isn’t that difficult taking into consideration that neither one of my parents exerted any kind of maternal instincts at all! And not even as us kids have grown and struggled through our lives, we had always been told by them that once we turned 18 we’d no longer be their “problem” anymore!
My sister’s name is Julie. She moved in with my mum and dad after one of her countless admissions to the psychiatric hospital in Bendigo, having absconded from their independent living facility which is meant to be a monitored introduction back into society after a mental health admission, but she always left before she gave the chance for them to find her accommodation that wasn’t with her abusive ex husband and 4 children.
Sitting down with her in her home, hearing all about the time she’s lived in Hay both with and near my parents, how our mum would bail her up sometimes (which had happened recently) even physically, how she’s thrown dishes at her and how she abuses her denying her food for being overweight on a daily basis… how she calls her fat and crazy… there’s literally a Myriad of abuse in all its forms being dished out to Julie, and yet, because she has nowhere else to go, like the situation my brother was in living with them on and off before he passed away (under questionable circumstances in my opinion) she has no choice but to endure it… and it saddens me to hear about it all let alone see it going on right before my eyes! Especially when the exact same denigrating comments about being useless, overweight, a waste of a life and criticism about the way she’s living her life, the choices she’s making and what she chooses to eat etc etc was also drilled into my brother by my parents and whispered to all that they spoke too for many many years before by brother lost his life.
I know through my own experience having lived with her that her poisonous mouth can lead a person to questioning your mere existence, your reason for living and remove all self esteem in a single spat with her! In 2013 I took an overdose due to a gross level of mental health issues and past trauma which I couldn’t deal with. My parents were living with us at the time and my youngest daughter exhibited some challenging behaviours… my mum found it difficult to cope with her however she made no attempt at patience or compassion and so in a fleeting moment she’s said to my daughter “if I was your mother I would’ve killed myself a long time ago!”
Wow! Just WOW! The above mentioned examples of how toxic my mother is… after only explaining to you the very tip of the iceberg in these few paragraphs, even I am second guessing writing this at all, and I’m finding it hard to fathom how I can rehash the past and get into more detail about the really bad situations! Not to mention, go into my life right from childhood until now with her and my father which is yet to come!
Writing this down, whether I share it here or not is going to be a huge journey for me that’ll take a lot of courage and open some really raw emotions… bring back old memories that I’ve suppressed and disassociated myself from… there will undoubtedly be many trigger points that I will go into which some people might become affected by, including me, but mine is a life that was, is and continues to be a challenge day in and day out… it’s something I’ve had to survive, a life and reality that I still struggle so much with but least attempt to cope with and in some way, I hope that my story will be able to shine a light on just how the importance of love, attention, affection and nurturing in our childhood really do mould the person we eventually become…
submitted by Expensive_Catch_3547 to abusesurvivors [link] [comments]
I have taken to the craft of making pebble art. The gift that I made for my mother was of an image depicting my family with my parents, my sister and I and my brother who’s passed away, as he is handing my mum a bunch of flowers. I made one for my dad depicting he and my Nan (his mother) fishing at their favourite fishing spot; my Nan passed away just last month as well and I thought it’d be a nice gesture, then I gave my sister one as well with a quote about sisters being joined by the heart.
The first day, Friday, that my husband, daughter and I came there was okay. It always is especially when I’ve not seen them for six months or more! We catch up, mum talks about her very many health conditions, she then complains a little bit about everything and everyone but it’s not over the top at this point because she and my dad are kept busy opening gifts and seemingly happy to see us! But we had decided before coming that we were going to stay in separate accommodation for the weekend with the knowledge that things with my mother usually go sour very quickly! And if we’re not having to stay at their home when it does then we can at least retain some mental stability throughout our trip! This would normally be a point in which I’d let out a bit of a chuckle or if I’m texting or writing a social media post, that I’d add the LOL at the end of that statement, simply due to the stupid realisation that unfortunately it is so very true that it’s almost comical, remembering in my mind the very many times that her very predictable unstable behaviour kicks in at around the 24 hour mark and doesn’t often dissipate until well after we’ve left if not months later! I have no clue as to why I’m still surprised by this occurrence?! Perhaps it’s because it is so unbelievably erratic and shocking to anyone that witnesses it that still even now it’s hard not only to watch unfold but to believe!
But sadly as a result of these personally flips, she lashes out in anger, she can become nasty and callous, her comments are cold and uncaring, she can become physically aggressive, and the damage done during these times can be hard to ever overcome, especially if she aims any comment or remark at you! It is during these times that you know in your soul that she has not a single care for you, not an ounce, and that the only attention or compassion shown towards you as her child or friend is one of obligation out of her need to keep up appearances with those who are still weaved in her web of “social media” deception! She wouldn’t dare lift a finger for anyone in person! But just the fact that we pre decided to obtain alternative accommodation was possibly one of the triggers I was already prepared would set her off, as we would usually choose to stay with her and dad in their spare room over crowded with belongings of the past and present, not unlike the rest of their home.
With this alone, one would see that she has an overwhelming need to retain old memories, be them bad or good. She still literally keeps every ounce of clothing I’ve ever passed on to her since well before I had children which was 27 years ago! Looking in her wardrobe, there are outfits there I remember her wearing when I was a teenager! Her bathroom still retains the $2 gifts (still in their packaging) that us kids bought for her from school Mother’s Day stalls, and the Mary Kay makeup I used to steal when I was attending high school!
Her kitchen still holds the Amway cookware she purchased for hundreds of dollars before I can remember! And to make matters worse, even some of the food in her pantry is from supermarkets no longer operating! Over the years, her hoarding has been a bit of a thorn in dad’s side, having lived a life of drifting from house to house, town to town, moving around as often as they have, having to cart it all along with them and something us kids (myself, my brother and sister) have always found funny to pick on her about, but in writing this, it is easy to see that her need to keep the past fresh in her mind and under her nose is a sickness all In itself.
Whilst we were visiting, we visited my sister in her little unit. It’s like walking back into the 70s and equally as much as a step back in time like my mother’s house! My sister has been diagnosed with schizophrenia which when first diagnosed was apparently drug induced, however; going from the lifestyle we were forced to live as the children to my parents and their lifestyle choices plus my brother and I having been diagnosed with conditions and disorders of our own, putting the puzzle pieces together as to how we’ve all accumulated mental health diagnoses isn’t that difficult taking into consideration that neither one of my parents exerted any kind of maternal instincts at all! And not even as us kids have grown and struggled through our lives, we had always been told by them that once we turned 18 we’d no longer be their “problem” anymore!
My sister’s name is Julie. She moved in with my mum and dad after one of her countless admissions to the psychiatric hospital in Bendigo, having absconded from their independent living facility which is meant to be a monitored introduction back into society after a mental health admission, but she always left before she gave the chance for them to find her accommodation that wasn’t with her abusive ex husband and 4 children.
Sitting down with her in her home, hearing all about the time she’s lived in Hay both with and near my parents, how our mum would bail her up sometimes (which had happened recently) even physically, how she’s thrown dishes at her and how she abuses her denying her food for being overweight on a daily basis… how she calls her fat and crazy… there’s literally a Myriad of abuse in all its forms being dished out to Julie, and yet, because she has nowhere else to go, like the situation my brother was in living with them on and off before he passed away (under questionable circumstances in my opinion) she has no choice but to endure it… and it saddens me to hear about it all let alone see it going on right before my eyes! Especially when the exact same denigrating comments about being useless, overweight, a waste of a life and criticism about the way she’s living her life, the choices she’s making and what she chooses to eat etc etc was also drilled into my brother by my parents and whispered to all that they spoke too for many many years before by brother lost his life.
I know through my own experience having lived with her that her poisonous mouth can lead a person to questioning your mere existence, your reason for living and remove all self esteem in a single spat with her! In 2013 I took an overdose due to a gross level of mental health issues and past trauma which I couldn’t deal with. My parents were living with us at the time and my youngest daughter exhibited some challenging behaviours… my mum found it difficult to cope with her however she made no attempt at patience or compassion and so in a fleeting moment she’s said to my daughter “if I was your mother I would’ve killed myself a long time ago!”
Wow! Just WOW! The above mentioned examples of how toxic my mother is… after only explaining to you the very tip of the iceberg in these few paragraphs, even I am second guessing writing this at all, and I’m finding it hard to fathom how I can rehash the past and get into more detail about the really bad situations! Not to mention, go into my life right from childhood until now with her and my father which is yet to come!
Writing this down, whether I share it here or not is going to be a huge journey for me that’ll take a lot of courage and open some really raw emotions… bring back old memories that I’ve suppressed and disassociated myself from… there will undoubtedly be many trigger points that I will go into which some people might become affected by, including me, but mine is a life that was, is and continues to be a challenge day in and day out… it’s something I’ve had to survive, a life and reality that I still struggle so much with but least attempt to cope with and in some way, I hope that my story will be able to shine a light on just how the importance of love, attention, affection and nurturing in our childhood really do mould the person we eventually become…
2024.05.14 06:07 Expensive_Catch_3547 My mother / my abuser
Well I guess that I have to start somewhere, so why not the end! I’ve been disowned for the umpteenth time by my parents (or rather by my mum because over the years, Dad has just learned to go along with whatever she says out of duress!) This has all been as a result of my having visited them in Hay ( a 700 kilometre round trip might I add) because my Dad’s brother passed away this week and it was Mother’s Day. I thought that I’d go to show my condolences and to wish my mother and sister who also lives there a happy Mother’s Day and bring them all some hand made gifts, I’m a bit sentimental like that.
I have taken to the craft of making pebble art. The gift that I made for my mother was of an image depicting my family with my parents, my sister and I and my brother who’s passed away, as he is handing my mum a bunch of flowers. I made one for my dad depicting he and my Nan (his mother) fishing at their favourite fishing spot; my Nan passed away just last month as well and I thought it’d be a nice gesture, then I gave my sister one as well with a quote about sisters being joined by the heart.
The first day, Friday, that my husband, daughter and I came there was okay. It always is especially when I’ve not seen them for six months or more! We catch up, mum talks about her very many health conditions, she then complains a little bit about everything and everyone but it’s not over the top at this point because she and my dad are kept busy opening gifts and seemingly happy to see us! But we had decided before coming that we were going to stay in separate accommodation for the weekend with the knowledge that things with my mother usually go sour very quickly! And if we’re not having to stay at their home when it does then we can at least retain some mental stability throughout our trip! This would normally be a point in which I’d let out a bit of a chuckle or if I’m texting or writing a social media post, that I’d add the LOL at the end of that statement, simply due to the stupid realisation that unfortunately it is so very true that it’s almost comical, remembering in my mind the very many times that her very predictable unstable behaviour kicks in at around the 24 hour mark and doesn’t often dissipate until well after we’ve left if not months later! I have no clue as to why I’m still surprised by this occurrence?! Perhaps it’s because it is so unbelievably erratic and shocking to anyone that witnesses it that still even now it’s hard not only to watch unfold but to believe!
But sadly as a result of these personally flips, she lashes out in anger, she can become nasty and callous, her comments are cold and uncaring, she can become physically aggressive, and the damage done during these times can be hard to ever overcome, especially if she aims any comment or remark at you! It is during these times that you know in your soul that she has not a single care for you, not an ounce, and that the only attention or compassion shown towards you as her child or friend is one of obligation out of her need to keep up appearances with those who are still weaved in her web of “social media” deception! She wouldn’t dare lift a finger for anyone in person! But just the fact that we pre decided to obtain alternative accommodation was possibly one of the triggers I was already prepared would set her off, as we would usually choose to stay with her and dad in their spare room over crowded with belongings of the past and present, not unlike the rest of their home.
With this alone, one would see that she has an overwhelming need to retain old memories, be them bad or good. She still literally keeps every ounce of clothing I’ve ever passed on to her since well before I had children which was 27 years ago! Looking in her wardrobe, there are outfits there I remember her wearing when I was a teenager! Her bathroom still retains the $2 gifts (still in their packaging) that us kids bought for her from school Mother’s Day stalls, and the Mary Kay makeup I used to steal when I was attending high school!
Her kitchen still holds the Amway cookware she purchased for hundreds of dollars before I can remember! And to make matters worse, even some of the food in her pantry is from supermarkets no longer operating! Over the years, her hoarding has been a bit of a thorn in dad’s side, having lived a life of drifting from house to house, town to town, moving around as often as they have, having to cart it all along with them and something us kids (myself, my brother and sister) have always found funny to pick on her about, but in writing this, it is easy to see that her need to keep the past fresh in her mind and under her nose is a sickness all In itself.
Whilst we were visiting, we visited my sister in her little unit. It’s like walking back into the 70s and equally as much as a step back in time like my mother’s house! My sister has been diagnosed with schizophrenia which when first diagnosed was apparently drug induced, however; going from the lifestyle we were forced to live as the children to my parents and their lifestyle choices plus my brother and I having been diagnosed with conditions and disorders of our own, putting the puzzle pieces together as to how we’ve all accumulated mental health diagnoses isn’t that difficult taking into consideration that neither one of my parents exerted any kind of maternal instincts at all! And not even as us kids have grown and struggled through our lives, we had always been told by them that once we turned 18 we’d no longer be their “problem” anymore!
My sister’s name is Julie. She moved in with my mum and dad after one of her countless admissions to the psychiatric hospital in Bendigo, having absconded from their independent living facility which is meant to be a monitored introduction back into society after a mental health admission, but she always left before she gave the chance for them to find her accommodation that wasn’t with her abusive ex husband and 4 children.
Sitting down with her in her home, hearing all about the time she’s lived in Hay both with and near my parents, how our mum would bail her up sometimes (which had happened recently) even physically, how she’s thrown dishes at her and how she abuses her denying her food for being overweight on a daily basis… how she calls her fat and crazy… there’s literally a Myriad of abuse in all its forms being dished out to Julie, and yet, because she has nowhere else to go, like the situation my brother was in living with them on and off before he passed away (under questionable circumstances in my opinion) she has no choice but to endure it… and it saddens me to hear about it all let alone see it going on right before my eyes! Especially when the exact same denigrating comments about being useless, overweight, a waste of a life and criticism about the way she’s living her life, the choices she’s making and what she chooses to eat etc etc was also drilled into my brother by my parents and whispered to all that they spoke too for many many years before by brother lost his life.
I know through my own experience having lived with her that her poisonous mouth can lead a person to questioning your mere existence, your reason for living and remove all self esteem in a single spat with her! In 2013 I took an overdose due to a gross level of mental health issues and past trauma which I couldn’t deal with. My parents were living with us at the time and my youngest daughter exhibited some challenging behaviours… my mum found it difficult to cope with her however she made no attempt at patience or compassion and so in a fleeting moment she’s said to my daughter “if I was your mother I would’ve killed myself a long time ago!”
Wow! Just WOW! The above mentioned examples of how toxic my mother is… after only explaining to you the very tip of the iceberg in these few paragraphs, even I am second guessing writing this at all, and I’m finding it hard to fathom how I can rehash the past and get into more detail about the really bad situations! Not to mention, go into my life right from childhood until now with her and my father which is yet to come!
Writing this down, whether I share it here or not is going to be a huge journey for me that’ll take a lot of courage and open some really raw emotions… bring back old memories that I’ve suppressed and disassociated myself from… there will undoubtedly be many trigger points that I will go into which some people might become affected by, including me, but mine is a life that was, is and continues to be a challenge day in and day out… it’s something I’ve had to survive, a life and reality that I still struggle so much with but least attempt to cope with and in some way, I hope that my story will be able to shine a light on just how the importance of love, attention, affection and nurturing in our childhood really do mould the person we eventually become…
submitted by Expensive_Catch_3547 to u/Expensive_Catch_3547 [link] [comments]
I have taken to the craft of making pebble art. The gift that I made for my mother was of an image depicting my family with my parents, my sister and I and my brother who’s passed away, as he is handing my mum a bunch of flowers. I made one for my dad depicting he and my Nan (his mother) fishing at their favourite fishing spot; my Nan passed away just last month as well and I thought it’d be a nice gesture, then I gave my sister one as well with a quote about sisters being joined by the heart.
The first day, Friday, that my husband, daughter and I came there was okay. It always is especially when I’ve not seen them for six months or more! We catch up, mum talks about her very many health conditions, she then complains a little bit about everything and everyone but it’s not over the top at this point because she and my dad are kept busy opening gifts and seemingly happy to see us! But we had decided before coming that we were going to stay in separate accommodation for the weekend with the knowledge that things with my mother usually go sour very quickly! And if we’re not having to stay at their home when it does then we can at least retain some mental stability throughout our trip! This would normally be a point in which I’d let out a bit of a chuckle or if I’m texting or writing a social media post, that I’d add the LOL at the end of that statement, simply due to the stupid realisation that unfortunately it is so very true that it’s almost comical, remembering in my mind the very many times that her very predictable unstable behaviour kicks in at around the 24 hour mark and doesn’t often dissipate until well after we’ve left if not months later! I have no clue as to why I’m still surprised by this occurrence?! Perhaps it’s because it is so unbelievably erratic and shocking to anyone that witnesses it that still even now it’s hard not only to watch unfold but to believe!
But sadly as a result of these personally flips, she lashes out in anger, she can become nasty and callous, her comments are cold and uncaring, she can become physically aggressive, and the damage done during these times can be hard to ever overcome, especially if she aims any comment or remark at you! It is during these times that you know in your soul that she has not a single care for you, not an ounce, and that the only attention or compassion shown towards you as her child or friend is one of obligation out of her need to keep up appearances with those who are still weaved in her web of “social media” deception! She wouldn’t dare lift a finger for anyone in person! But just the fact that we pre decided to obtain alternative accommodation was possibly one of the triggers I was already prepared would set her off, as we would usually choose to stay with her and dad in their spare room over crowded with belongings of the past and present, not unlike the rest of their home.
With this alone, one would see that she has an overwhelming need to retain old memories, be them bad or good. She still literally keeps every ounce of clothing I’ve ever passed on to her since well before I had children which was 27 years ago! Looking in her wardrobe, there are outfits there I remember her wearing when I was a teenager! Her bathroom still retains the $2 gifts (still in their packaging) that us kids bought for her from school Mother’s Day stalls, and the Mary Kay makeup I used to steal when I was attending high school!
Her kitchen still holds the Amway cookware she purchased for hundreds of dollars before I can remember! And to make matters worse, even some of the food in her pantry is from supermarkets no longer operating! Over the years, her hoarding has been a bit of a thorn in dad’s side, having lived a life of drifting from house to house, town to town, moving around as often as they have, having to cart it all along with them and something us kids (myself, my brother and sister) have always found funny to pick on her about, but in writing this, it is easy to see that her need to keep the past fresh in her mind and under her nose is a sickness all In itself.
Whilst we were visiting, we visited my sister in her little unit. It’s like walking back into the 70s and equally as much as a step back in time like my mother’s house! My sister has been diagnosed with schizophrenia which when first diagnosed was apparently drug induced, however; going from the lifestyle we were forced to live as the children to my parents and their lifestyle choices plus my brother and I having been diagnosed with conditions and disorders of our own, putting the puzzle pieces together as to how we’ve all accumulated mental health diagnoses isn’t that difficult taking into consideration that neither one of my parents exerted any kind of maternal instincts at all! And not even as us kids have grown and struggled through our lives, we had always been told by them that once we turned 18 we’d no longer be their “problem” anymore!
My sister’s name is Julie. She moved in with my mum and dad after one of her countless admissions to the psychiatric hospital in Bendigo, having absconded from their independent living facility which is meant to be a monitored introduction back into society after a mental health admission, but she always left before she gave the chance for them to find her accommodation that wasn’t with her abusive ex husband and 4 children.
Sitting down with her in her home, hearing all about the time she’s lived in Hay both with and near my parents, how our mum would bail her up sometimes (which had happened recently) even physically, how she’s thrown dishes at her and how she abuses her denying her food for being overweight on a daily basis… how she calls her fat and crazy… there’s literally a Myriad of abuse in all its forms being dished out to Julie, and yet, because she has nowhere else to go, like the situation my brother was in living with them on and off before he passed away (under questionable circumstances in my opinion) she has no choice but to endure it… and it saddens me to hear about it all let alone see it going on right before my eyes! Especially when the exact same denigrating comments about being useless, overweight, a waste of a life and criticism about the way she’s living her life, the choices she’s making and what she chooses to eat etc etc was also drilled into my brother by my parents and whispered to all that they spoke too for many many years before by brother lost his life.
I know through my own experience having lived with her that her poisonous mouth can lead a person to questioning your mere existence, your reason for living and remove all self esteem in a single spat with her! In 2013 I took an overdose due to a gross level of mental health issues and past trauma which I couldn’t deal with. My parents were living with us at the time and my youngest daughter exhibited some challenging behaviours… my mum found it difficult to cope with her however she made no attempt at patience or compassion and so in a fleeting moment she’s said to my daughter “if I was your mother I would’ve killed myself a long time ago!”
Wow! Just WOW! The above mentioned examples of how toxic my mother is… after only explaining to you the very tip of the iceberg in these few paragraphs, even I am second guessing writing this at all, and I’m finding it hard to fathom how I can rehash the past and get into more detail about the really bad situations! Not to mention, go into my life right from childhood until now with her and my father which is yet to come!
Writing this down, whether I share it here or not is going to be a huge journey for me that’ll take a lot of courage and open some really raw emotions… bring back old memories that I’ve suppressed and disassociated myself from… there will undoubtedly be many trigger points that I will go into which some people might become affected by, including me, but mine is a life that was, is and continues to be a challenge day in and day out… it’s something I’ve had to survive, a life and reality that I still struggle so much with but least attempt to cope with and in some way, I hope that my story will be able to shine a light on just how the importance of love, attention, affection and nurturing in our childhood really do mould the person we eventually become…
2024.05.14 06:06 afox012 Anne arundle County
I have jury duty in Anne arundle County Maryland, I don't have my license or a car, but my dad is able to get the day off and drive me. Im also going camping for my mothers birthday the next day. I just realised that jury duty is technically a week, as in ill serve either one trial or one week "The term of service for Trial Jurors is one week or one trial". It's kind of like stand by, were on anyday I can be called in the evening before to go the next day. My summons Is for tuesday the day after memorial day, and I won't know if Ill actually be summoned until the evening before.
My thing is, if I go teusday i can just tell them my situation and I think I'll be excused. BUT theres a possibility that I won't be called in for teusday but still on stand by the rest of the week. In that case, how do i tell them I can't come in the rest of the week? The call the evening before to get my jury duty directions is prerecorded according to the website, so I can't ask then, maybe I can call this week and ask? I just don't know if they will even have the answer. At this point I'm just sacred of the uncertainty that I may not be called in teusday and will be on call on a day ill be camping. If I call like this week to the court house, will they have the power to dismiss my summons , because I doubt they'd be able to make shure that I can just do teusday.
How do I ensure I won't be called in the rest of the week, if I don't go in person Tuesday? If I call them will they dismiss me?
This may seem stupid but I'm 19 and I'm the only one if my family to have been summoned and I have anxiety about things I can't know for certain.
submitted by afox012 to juryduty [link] [comments]
My thing is, if I go teusday i can just tell them my situation and I think I'll be excused. BUT theres a possibility that I won't be called in for teusday but still on stand by the rest of the week. In that case, how do i tell them I can't come in the rest of the week? The call the evening before to get my jury duty directions is prerecorded according to the website, so I can't ask then, maybe I can call this week and ask? I just don't know if they will even have the answer. At this point I'm just sacred of the uncertainty that I may not be called in teusday and will be on call on a day ill be camping. If I call like this week to the court house, will they have the power to dismiss my summons , because I doubt they'd be able to make shure that I can just do teusday.
How do I ensure I won't be called in the rest of the week, if I don't go in person Tuesday? If I call them will they dismiss me?
This may seem stupid but I'm 19 and I'm the only one if my family to have been summoned and I have anxiety about things I can't know for certain.
2024.05.14 06:02 Choice_Evidence1983 I found my sister who disappeared from everyone more than 15 years ago after she ran away from home
I am NOT OOP, OOP is u/MediumGrouchy5547
Originally posted to TrueOffMyChest
I found my sister who disappeared from everyone more than 15 years ago after she ran away from home
Trigger Warnings: abandonment, depression, self-harm, eating disorder, possible mental health issues
Editor’s Note: TCA stands for trastornos de la conducta alimentaria which translates into “eating disorder”
Rastafarian: a religious movement
Original Post: April 26, 2024
I'm really happy and confused and I really don't know if I can talk about this with friends and family but I need to share my experience with someone because I missed my sister. I don't need or want any advice since no one really knows the situation to be able to give a good advice without assuming things they don't know and it's weird to read people talking about my sister like if they know what she lived, I just want to share this and I know a lot of people have had experiences like this too so maybe someone can relate.
When I was 10 years old my older sister who was 22 at that time disappeared after leaving a note to our parents saying that she's okay and just wants to start over her life.
My sister was always a lonely but outgoing person, she always told me that she enjoyed solitude from time to time and noisy things took away from her quality of life because tbh it was loud LOUD where we lived and it was annoying even for me (we lived in a dangerous neighborhood so it wasn't too safe and she hated not being able to go for a walk at night or do things at night alone), she was depressed and I remember seeing her suffering from severe anxiety attacks, she used to hit herself to stop them and she had a strong TCA that triggered those things. She suffered from other mental issues as well and talked freely about that, she talked about those things in front of me and these are things that leave a mark on you.
She was the favorite of the whole family although mi parents never out pressure on her, they always let us do our life (my brother who was 19 at that time knows that, my sister was the golden child), my grandfather always made it clear that she is his favorite granddaughter, even now. She was the calm but funny kind of person, she was the closest to my parents and uncles so when she disappeared from one day to the next no one understood what was going on.
Even my sister had never traveled alone except to go to work and she always notified my mother that she was okay for safety reasons. She left a long note clarifying that she doesn't want to be searched but she loves us. It was a big blow for the family, I remember my mother wanting to report to the police but they said that my sister was not a minor and the note said that she left by her own so they can't do anything.
In a way, my other brother knew that this would happen at some point, since our sister mentioned a lot that she wanted to leave everything and go live in the countryside or become a nun and live in a calm place without any worries but nobody took her seriously about that. She was always the kind of person who did things without telling anyone, she liked her solitude sometimes even if she was always friendly.
The first months and weeks were strange, it wasn't that she had passed away but that she disappeared because she wanted to, I remember my mother missing her because they always shared the afternoons together.
I also missed her a lot, Even years later my family missed her and at Christmas or her birthday someone would always say "maybe she'll show up now" or we would wonder how she's doing or if she was alive.
Back to the present. I'm on vacation in the south of my country (This part of my country is very expensive for a tourist and I am the only one in my family who was able to come now that I am an adult), it's a place full of villages and while I was exploring I came to a place where they sold typical handicrafts of the place.
While shopping I can swear that the first thing I saw was my sister looking at some crafts on a shelf, she looked more adult but obviously I recognized her instantly, we are really similar after all.
I didn't really knew how to react after so many years and I didn't know how she would react, but I went over and said her name. What I didn't expected was that she would smile instantly when she saw me and called me by my nickname. I thought she had escaped because she didn't wanted anything to do with the family even if in the note she said she loves us, but she was greeting me as if nothing had happened.
She told me that she didn't expected to see me there and asked me if I was on vacation, she said that the village used to be not so touristy but now more people started to go and many villagers opened stores for the tourists. I was upset, I was angry with her for leaving us and pretending that nothing happened but I couldn't react so I just asked her if she lives in that town and she said yes, It's a place filled with old people.
We talked for a few seconds, she asked me what I'm studying and if everyone at home is okay, she told me I'm taller and thinner. Then she gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me that if I have a few days off I can go visit her but she doesn't have a cell phone so she told me that she's almost everyday there. My sister also told me to send hugs to our parents.
I'm confused and full of questions about her, she doesn't even wants to hide, she didn't looked or talked to me like someone who wanted to run away from something and hide. She was just happy to see me and happy to know that we were all good.
But I also feel resentment for her when I think about all that our parents and grandparents suffered when she disappeared, making my mother feel that she was a bad mother because she couldn't protect her.
But I'm ambivalent as I'm also happy to know that she's okay and that she doesn't hate me or the family but I'm also confused, Her behavior wasn't that of someone who is hiding or who doesn't want to know anything about her past, she was just happy to hear about us.
Edit: I'm sorry but there are people who clearly don't read the post, there are literally people saying that I didn't even knew my sister and commenting as if they knew her and taking things for granted about her life, there are even people saying that they don't understand why I'm 'angry' (it's just a feeling, a normal feeling, it's not that I hate her and I will treat her badly, god. Nor will I talk to my family without talking to her first, at what point in the post did I say that I'm going to expose her? I'm never going to treat her badly either because I have no reason to do so, It's crazy how half the comments draw silly conclusions) with my sister when i literally say it up there, even if my English is bad because it's not my first language, just read the post before you want to get a few likes for some unnecessary advice.
Additional Information from OOP on his sister’s note
Mil1512: Is your sister neurodivergent?
With the hitting herself when struggling with anxiety and enjoying solitude.
I'm neurodivergent and my family live in another country. I honestly forget to talk to them most of the time and only really do because my mum messages me first. If she didn't we just wouldn't talk. Not due to any hate or anything, I'm just happy doing my own thing.
Can people just stop with the aggressive messages? Weirdos: May 1, 2024
I understand that many reflect their personal traumas in this site, but I literally received passive-aggressive messages calling me idiot or even telling me that I would hate my sister if she were neurodivergent or claiming that my parents abused her.
What's wrong with y'all? Go to a psychologist and stop reflecting your unresolved traumas in the story of a person you don't even know. Go out and touch grass and talk to a real person instead of literally sending private messages like that.
I didn't asked for any advice and just wanted to share my story because that's the point of that subreddit, but many took it the wrong way and decided to turn something positive into a way to fight.
I don't even understand why out of nowhere I started getting those kinds of messages or if someone share that post on a weird place.
Editor’s Note: TLP is trastorno límite de la personalidad which translates into Borderline Personality Disorder
Update: May 7, 2024
On sunday I finally found my sister again, she was selling things in the park with other stands, all of them are rastafari, not hippies or a sect. I walked over and she greeted me just as happily, we talked a couple of things and my sister told me that she doesn't have a cell phone so it was impossible for her to tell me that she wouldn't be there on Saturday.
I spent the afternoon with her at her stand and after that we went to her house, she lives alone (and sometimes with her friends). We talked for a while and at one point she broke down and hugged me, saying she was trying to stay calm all this time and didn't knew how to react because she didn't wanted to make me cry too bc she remembered that I was really sensitive but she couldn't hold it anymore. We cried and talked a lot.
My sister was tired of people, she said that our house was her safe place but hated the idea of having to work everyday and I didn't wanted to study anything, she was our parents' golden child, so they let her do whatever she wanted, but she knew that at some point she had to make something of her life. She was tired of how stupid and empty everyone was, of the politicians, of the TV showing empty things, of the noise everywhere outside when she wanted peace, even sleeping in our home was stressful for everyone because of the noises outside during the weekends when she wanted to be alone to smoke and listen music (tbh, In my memories as a child I didn't remember the obvious smell of joints that my sister had all the time)
That added to the pressure that society put on her to be physically perfect make her want to leave everything behind.
She didn't wanted to die but realized that my parents were miserable when they saw her being miserable, this is something I didn't know, but my sister said that our father had two jobs to be able to pay for her psychologist and medication, also my father used to spoil her a lot with the only food she eat without guilty. Running away was like dying symbolically.
My sister says that although our parents always supported her, she felt like a failture for not being able to improve and always relapsing, she felt bad to see our father working so hard and also wanted to live according to her spiritual mentality, free from all that is toxic in society.
All of those things make her ran away from everything, she felt like a burden and also didn't wanted to live a life working and miserable like everyone.
Sis told me that she never contacted us because she doesn't wants to have a cell phone and a trip to our province is too expensive to her because it's basically going from one end of the country to the other.
She hates capitalist society with all her soul and doesn't even have a TV. My sister said that she is much better now away from the city. My sister told me that she wants to talk to our parents but doesn't knows what to say and we don't want to give them parents a shock since our dad was sick a few days ago and is recovering from dengue.
I'm writing this with her beside me and doesn't understand what's the point of this site (The last social network she used was fotolog in 2007) but said that she doesn't mind if I post this. She wanted to write something but said she doesn't like writing in English haha
My sister was reading the comments and wants me to clarify that she never suffered any kind of a abuse, she has a lot of friends and never had any problem with anyone but likes to be alone from time to time to meditate.
And she's not neurodivergent (She said her behavior was normal because of her TLP), suffers from ED, borderline personality disorder and see a psychologist twice a month.
During her adolescence, the blogs Ana and mia were trendy, her friends had that 'aesthetic' and she was popular in fotolog (according to my sister, at that time it was taken as an aesthetic and even a book about that was really popular between teens, maybe someone from my country knows Abzurdah?). She hated going out when she felt fat, she couldn't have imperfections like cuts on her arms so she hurt herself with a rubber band when she overate, something she read in those blogs. Now she's in a good weight but it took her really long to not relapse again. It's been a long recovery for her and once you're anorexic you never stop being anorexic, she's always afraid of relapsing.
So that's it for now, we don't know how we're going to talk with our parents without making them freak out. And also my sister after seeing the comments on the post saw other reddit posts and said that her life is definitely better without a cell phone, she says that things like fotolog was the beginning of all evil haha
Relevant Comments
OOP on his sister being involved with Rastafari
submitted by Choice_Evidence1983 to BestofRedditorUpdates [link] [comments]
Originally posted to TrueOffMyChest
I found my sister who disappeared from everyone more than 15 years ago after she ran away from home
Trigger Warnings: abandonment, depression, self-harm, eating disorder, possible mental health issues
Rastafarian: a religious movement
Original Post: April 26, 2024
I'm really happy and confused and I really don't know if I can talk about this with friends and family but I need to share my experience with someone because I missed my sister. I don't need or want any advice since no one really knows the situation to be able to give a good advice without assuming things they don't know and it's weird to read people talking about my sister like if they know what she lived, I just want to share this and I know a lot of people have had experiences like this too so maybe someone can relate.
When I was 10 years old my older sister who was 22 at that time disappeared after leaving a note to our parents saying that she's okay and just wants to start over her life.
My sister was always a lonely but outgoing person, she always told me that she enjoyed solitude from time to time and noisy things took away from her quality of life because tbh it was loud LOUD where we lived and it was annoying even for me (we lived in a dangerous neighborhood so it wasn't too safe and she hated not being able to go for a walk at night or do things at night alone), she was depressed and I remember seeing her suffering from severe anxiety attacks, she used to hit herself to stop them and she had a strong TCA that triggered those things. She suffered from other mental issues as well and talked freely about that, she talked about those things in front of me and these are things that leave a mark on you.
She was the favorite of the whole family although mi parents never out pressure on her, they always let us do our life (my brother who was 19 at that time knows that, my sister was the golden child), my grandfather always made it clear that she is his favorite granddaughter, even now. She was the calm but funny kind of person, she was the closest to my parents and uncles so when she disappeared from one day to the next no one understood what was going on.
Even my sister had never traveled alone except to go to work and she always notified my mother that she was okay for safety reasons. She left a long note clarifying that she doesn't want to be searched but she loves us. It was a big blow for the family, I remember my mother wanting to report to the police but they said that my sister was not a minor and the note said that she left by her own so they can't do anything.
In a way, my other brother knew that this would happen at some point, since our sister mentioned a lot that she wanted to leave everything and go live in the countryside or become a nun and live in a calm place without any worries but nobody took her seriously about that. She was always the kind of person who did things without telling anyone, she liked her solitude sometimes even if she was always friendly.
The first months and weeks were strange, it wasn't that she had passed away but that she disappeared because she wanted to, I remember my mother missing her because they always shared the afternoons together.
I also missed her a lot, Even years later my family missed her and at Christmas or her birthday someone would always say "maybe she'll show up now" or we would wonder how she's doing or if she was alive.
Back to the present. I'm on vacation in the south of my country (This part of my country is very expensive for a tourist and I am the only one in my family who was able to come now that I am an adult), it's a place full of villages and while I was exploring I came to a place where they sold typical handicrafts of the place.
While shopping I can swear that the first thing I saw was my sister looking at some crafts on a shelf, she looked more adult but obviously I recognized her instantly, we are really similar after all.
I didn't really knew how to react after so many years and I didn't know how she would react, but I went over and said her name. What I didn't expected was that she would smile instantly when she saw me and called me by my nickname. I thought she had escaped because she didn't wanted anything to do with the family even if in the note she said she loves us, but she was greeting me as if nothing had happened.
She told me that she didn't expected to see me there and asked me if I was on vacation, she said that the village used to be not so touristy but now more people started to go and many villagers opened stores for the tourists. I was upset, I was angry with her for leaving us and pretending that nothing happened but I couldn't react so I just asked her if she lives in that town and she said yes, It's a place filled with old people.
We talked for a few seconds, she asked me what I'm studying and if everyone at home is okay, she told me I'm taller and thinner. Then she gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me that if I have a few days off I can go visit her but she doesn't have a cell phone so she told me that she's almost everyday there. My sister also told me to send hugs to our parents.
I'm confused and full of questions about her, she doesn't even wants to hide, she didn't looked or talked to me like someone who wanted to run away from something and hide. She was just happy to see me and happy to know that we were all good.
But I also feel resentment for her when I think about all that our parents and grandparents suffered when she disappeared, making my mother feel that she was a bad mother because she couldn't protect her.
But I'm ambivalent as I'm also happy to know that she's okay and that she doesn't hate me or the family but I'm also confused, Her behavior wasn't that of someone who is hiding or who doesn't want to know anything about her past, she was just happy to hear about us.
Edit: I'm sorry but there are people who clearly don't read the post, there are literally people saying that I didn't even knew my sister and commenting as if they knew her and taking things for granted about her life, there are even people saying that they don't understand why I'm 'angry' (it's just a feeling, a normal feeling, it's not that I hate her and I will treat her badly, god. Nor will I talk to my family without talking to her first, at what point in the post did I say that I'm going to expose her? I'm never going to treat her badly either because I have no reason to do so, It's crazy how half the comments draw silly conclusions) with my sister when i literally say it up there, even if my English is bad because it's not my first language, just read the post before you want to get a few likes for some unnecessary advice.
Additional Information from OOP on his sister’s note
OOP: My sister in the note said that she loves our parents, my brother was 19 when our sister left and he himself knows how much our parents loved and supported her when she was having a hard time with herself but the outside always affected her badly.Relevant Comments
I was ten years old but I wasn't a baby and I remember what the family dynamic was like, I remember the feeling of my family, my parents are not narcissists and my sister loved them and they love who's my sister, she just had her own problems.
How could a parent miss the idea of their children? There's not a day when my parents don't miss everything about my sister, they miss sharing the day with her, my father even missed when she was cranky. My parents always let us go our own way and I can assure you that they never pressured us to be what they wanted us to be, I don't even know what they want us to be.
Mil1512: Is your sister neurodivergent?
With the hitting herself when struggling with anxiety and enjoying solitude.
I'm neurodivergent and my family live in another country. I honestly forget to talk to them most of the time and only really do because my mum messages me first. If she didn't we just wouldn't talk. Not due to any hate or anything, I'm just happy doing my own thing.
OOP: She's not. My sister had a lot of self-destructive behaviors and hurting herself was one of them when she felt 'fat', she also had eating disorders and panic attacks because of that. I don't remember too much but she did other things to not eat besides hitting herself, she was very open about her TCA and yes, she has a diagnosis from a professional.mikuzgrl: It almost seems like the sister has been in contact with someone for a while and thinks news is being passed back and forth.
My sister was always in touch with my mother and everyone in text, she always used to keep in touch when she was going out until the day she left, now she doesn't even have a phone. In her note she just said that she wanted to leave everything
OOP: I never thought about that but I don't think so, seeing how my parents miss her I think the first thing the family would do would be to at least tell my father that she is okay :/
Can people just stop with the aggressive messages? Weirdos: May 1, 2024
I understand that many reflect their personal traumas in this site, but I literally received passive-aggressive messages calling me idiot or even telling me that I would hate my sister if she were neurodivergent or claiming that my parents abused her.
What's wrong with y'all? Go to a psychologist and stop reflecting your unresolved traumas in the story of a person you don't even know. Go out and touch grass and talk to a real person instead of literally sending private messages like that.
I didn't asked for any advice and just wanted to share my story because that's the point of that subreddit, but many took it the wrong way and decided to turn something positive into a way to fight.
I don't even understand why out of nowhere I started getting those kinds of messages or if someone share that post on a weird place.
Editor’s Note: TLP is trastorno límite de la personalidad which translates into Borderline Personality Disorder
Update: May 7, 2024
On sunday I finally found my sister again, she was selling things in the park with other stands, all of them are rastafari, not hippies or a sect. I walked over and she greeted me just as happily, we talked a couple of things and my sister told me that she doesn't have a cell phone so it was impossible for her to tell me that she wouldn't be there on Saturday.
I spent the afternoon with her at her stand and after that we went to her house, she lives alone (and sometimes with her friends). We talked for a while and at one point she broke down and hugged me, saying she was trying to stay calm all this time and didn't knew how to react because she didn't wanted to make me cry too bc she remembered that I was really sensitive but she couldn't hold it anymore. We cried and talked a lot.
My sister was tired of people, she said that our house was her safe place but hated the idea of having to work everyday and I didn't wanted to study anything, she was our parents' golden child, so they let her do whatever she wanted, but she knew that at some point she had to make something of her life. She was tired of how stupid and empty everyone was, of the politicians, of the TV showing empty things, of the noise everywhere outside when she wanted peace, even sleeping in our home was stressful for everyone because of the noises outside during the weekends when she wanted to be alone to smoke and listen music (tbh, In my memories as a child I didn't remember the obvious smell of joints that my sister had all the time)
That added to the pressure that society put on her to be physically perfect make her want to leave everything behind.
She didn't wanted to die but realized that my parents were miserable when they saw her being miserable, this is something I didn't know, but my sister said that our father had two jobs to be able to pay for her psychologist and medication, also my father used to spoil her a lot with the only food she eat without guilty. Running away was like dying symbolically.
My sister says that although our parents always supported her, she felt like a failture for not being able to improve and always relapsing, she felt bad to see our father working so hard and also wanted to live according to her spiritual mentality, free from all that is toxic in society.
All of those things make her ran away from everything, she felt like a burden and also didn't wanted to live a life working and miserable like everyone.
Sis told me that she never contacted us because she doesn't wants to have a cell phone and a trip to our province is too expensive to her because it's basically going from one end of the country to the other.
She hates capitalist society with all her soul and doesn't even have a TV. My sister said that she is much better now away from the city. My sister told me that she wants to talk to our parents but doesn't knows what to say and we don't want to give them parents a shock since our dad was sick a few days ago and is recovering from dengue.
I'm writing this with her beside me and doesn't understand what's the point of this site (The last social network she used was fotolog in 2007) but said that she doesn't mind if I post this. She wanted to write something but said she doesn't like writing in English haha
My sister was reading the comments and wants me to clarify that she never suffered any kind of a abuse, she has a lot of friends and never had any problem with anyone but likes to be alone from time to time to meditate.
And she's not neurodivergent (She said her behavior was normal because of her TLP), suffers from ED, borderline personality disorder and see a psychologist twice a month.
During her adolescence, the blogs Ana and mia were trendy, her friends had that 'aesthetic' and she was popular in fotolog (according to my sister, at that time it was taken as an aesthetic and even a book about that was really popular between teens, maybe someone from my country knows Abzurdah?). She hated going out when she felt fat, she couldn't have imperfections like cuts on her arms so she hurt herself with a rubber band when she overate, something she read in those blogs. Now she's in a good weight but it took her really long to not relapse again. It's been a long recovery for her and once you're anorexic you never stop being anorexic, she's always afraid of relapsing.
So that's it for now, we don't know how we're going to talk with our parents without making them freak out. And also my sister after seeing the comments on the post saw other reddit posts and said that her life is definitely better without a cell phone, she says that things like fotolog was the beginning of all evil haha
Relevant Comments
OOP on his sister being involved with Rastafari
OOP: Idk how it is in other countries to be honest, my sister doesn't live in community and there are no camps, she's one of the few who has a house because most of them prefer to travel around the country.
I really think it's impossible for them to be 100% Rastafarian here tbh because we are from South America and the Rastafarian community here is obviously totally different from the REAL Rastafarians, they just follow most of the philosophy
Edit: for example, my sister doesn't consider herself Rastafarian but she share some points of the philosophy they have, I don't know how the rest of them thinks
DO NOT COMMENT IN LINKED POSTS OR MESSAGE OOPs – BoRU Rule #7
THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT OOP
2024.05.14 05:32 Complete_Guitar_1181 I caught my narcissist mom in a lie and I don't know what to do.
I need help and opinions. Thanks for reading if you do!
In the last year or so, I've recovered some bad memories of my childhood and some of that was preceded and followed by other bad memories of growing up with my mom and dad, Mostly my mom, and have realized that she is a narcissist among other things.
I am also currently in nursing school and if anyone has been through a grueling education process, you'll understand that your time cannot be on what you want or what other people want it to be all the time. It is 2 full time jobs worth of studying, sometimes more, on top of 2+ jobs and other responsibilities. Due to this, our relationship is growing further strained because I am not able to do what she wants me to do when she wants me to do it. She guilt trips me for studying or even just taking care of my mental health, and consistently interrupts or even stops me from studying all together. I do not study at home anymore due to that and so she guilt trips me when I come home from work or school for not being here to help or whatever it is. The thing is, I've tried to do it all plus school and multiple jobs. I can't. I almost failed my last semester because I did everything she wanted to me to do all the time bc I figured it would be easier. Obviously it wasn't. It is a lot to type out so this not everything that happened but gives you a little bit of background.
Well there has been a couple of big fights, a lot actually. And it's mentally messed with me. Now I'm at a point where I don't let it bother me too much outwardly but can't help but let it bother me on the inside sometimes. So much so, that I've decided it's time for my sister, her son and I to get an apartment. I think my parents and I's relationship would be better if I weren't here. And I told them that.
Now all of a sudden, my mom has started with this desperate campaign to show me how much of a waste of money it would be for me to move out and pushing on me that if I'm not going to buy their house that they're either going to keep it til they die (another trigger for me) or sell it to someone in the family. Earlier today, she told me that my cousin wants to buy the house. I told her, yes that's a good idea because when we get our apartment, that they could move out and get a different house and if I wanted to buy the house later on, I could. Well, apparently, she didn't expect that reaction from me. I told her that it was a good idea and she was flabbergasted. She stopped talking about that and moved on.
A few days ago, one of the fights she started was about the fact that she had accidentally taken one of my scrubs and dried them, which I dont do. I hang dry them. It wasn't a big deal to me. I just rewashed them and had to retrain the fabric again. Not a big deal but it was made a big deal bc i had to rewash them, wasting time and money. She freaks out and when I tell her that she is literally freaking out about NOTHING, it makes her angrier bc how dare I tell her that? How dare I say that she made a mistake, no matter how small it is. This blew up into her refusing to accept a mother's day gift or even read a card until I let her belittle and scream at me that I've changed and how horrible of a daughter I am, how I'm using my studying as a crutch to not do anything (even though I do), and how much I've hurt her by not doing what she wants me to do. She also said, along with my dad, that I am a narcissist because I'm setting boundaries that I do not want to talk about anything political and have to make hard boundaries about studying... in order for me to pass my classes, mind you. Only after an hour and a half of her and my dad belittling me and telling me how I've changed for the worse and how much I've hurt her, did she open the card and say "thanks for the beautiful card." She initially refused to take my card but took my sister's, literally in my face, and took the time to read everything out loud from her card before saying she will not read mine because I don't care about her or love her. This is a tactic she does often to try to pin my sister and I against each other. This is not everything, but more for background.
Her M.O. is to push the blame onto me about absolutely everything. And I mean, EVERYTHING. Even stuff that has nothing to do with me. Well, today she tried that but I caught her in a lie instead.
I had done some of mine and my sisters clothes right before she came down and I had a pair of scrubs under a sweater on the dryer that I hadn't put away yet. When she went into the laundry room to switch her laundry over (because she also tries to gatekeep the laundry room,) she lied and told me that she had just pulled the scrubs out of the dryer and said that even I mess up because I had actually put her clothes in the dryer and I hadn't taken them out. Of course she doesn't know that I knew those scrubs were NOT in that load and were already done previously.
It blew my mind.
I know she's done this before but my mind is so lost on how many times I thought I was just crazy or maybe thought I remembered wrong. And she's done this about everything. For my entire life. But I never caught her like this before.
It spiraled me and kicked up some other memories. Not good ones.
But now, every time she talks to me, I feel disgusted and angry. I can't do anything other than laugh because if I show emotion, especially the one I want, it won't end well and I'll end up being kicked out or something. But she also has an issue with me laughing with everything she says (which I would too, but I don't know how else to react). I can't believe a damn thing she says, which I thought I didn't before, but now it's so... open, is the best descriptive word I can say. I'm not exactly sure how else to describe it.
What do I do? I'm reeling. I made an appt with my therapist on Thursday but I realized today is MONDAY. I'm not sure if I can do this til Thursday.
I am not allowing myself to dive through more memories bc who knows what else I'll uncover.
Do I tell her I know? Would it help, would it make it worse? How do I stop myself from reacting to every little thing she says. I cringe and shiver even she says she loves me. It's a big physical reaction. Same when she tries the desperate thing. I can't help but laugh. I have to because otherwise I'd scream or end up sobbing. What do I do?
Has anyone been in this situation?? I need help.
I am so sorry if this does not make sense. I work overnight and haven't slept more than 2 hrs in two days. If I didn't answer something or you have questions about something, let me know and I'll answer. I need help on how to move on from this. Thank you in advance.
submitted by Complete_Guitar_1181 to CharlotteDobreYouTube [link] [comments]
In the last year or so, I've recovered some bad memories of my childhood and some of that was preceded and followed by other bad memories of growing up with my mom and dad, Mostly my mom, and have realized that she is a narcissist among other things.
I am also currently in nursing school and if anyone has been through a grueling education process, you'll understand that your time cannot be on what you want or what other people want it to be all the time. It is 2 full time jobs worth of studying, sometimes more, on top of 2+ jobs and other responsibilities. Due to this, our relationship is growing further strained because I am not able to do what she wants me to do when she wants me to do it. She guilt trips me for studying or even just taking care of my mental health, and consistently interrupts or even stops me from studying all together. I do not study at home anymore due to that and so she guilt trips me when I come home from work or school for not being here to help or whatever it is. The thing is, I've tried to do it all plus school and multiple jobs. I can't. I almost failed my last semester because I did everything she wanted to me to do all the time bc I figured it would be easier. Obviously it wasn't. It is a lot to type out so this not everything that happened but gives you a little bit of background.
Well there has been a couple of big fights, a lot actually. And it's mentally messed with me. Now I'm at a point where I don't let it bother me too much outwardly but can't help but let it bother me on the inside sometimes. So much so, that I've decided it's time for my sister, her son and I to get an apartment. I think my parents and I's relationship would be better if I weren't here. And I told them that.
Now all of a sudden, my mom has started with this desperate campaign to show me how much of a waste of money it would be for me to move out and pushing on me that if I'm not going to buy their house that they're either going to keep it til they die (another trigger for me) or sell it to someone in the family. Earlier today, she told me that my cousin wants to buy the house. I told her, yes that's a good idea because when we get our apartment, that they could move out and get a different house and if I wanted to buy the house later on, I could. Well, apparently, she didn't expect that reaction from me. I told her that it was a good idea and she was flabbergasted. She stopped talking about that and moved on.
A few days ago, one of the fights she started was about the fact that she had accidentally taken one of my scrubs and dried them, which I dont do. I hang dry them. It wasn't a big deal to me. I just rewashed them and had to retrain the fabric again. Not a big deal but it was made a big deal bc i had to rewash them, wasting time and money. She freaks out and when I tell her that she is literally freaking out about NOTHING, it makes her angrier bc how dare I tell her that? How dare I say that she made a mistake, no matter how small it is. This blew up into her refusing to accept a mother's day gift or even read a card until I let her belittle and scream at me that I've changed and how horrible of a daughter I am, how I'm using my studying as a crutch to not do anything (even though I do), and how much I've hurt her by not doing what she wants me to do. She also said, along with my dad, that I am a narcissist because I'm setting boundaries that I do not want to talk about anything political and have to make hard boundaries about studying... in order for me to pass my classes, mind you. Only after an hour and a half of her and my dad belittling me and telling me how I've changed for the worse and how much I've hurt her, did she open the card and say "thanks for the beautiful card." She initially refused to take my card but took my sister's, literally in my face, and took the time to read everything out loud from her card before saying she will not read mine because I don't care about her or love her. This is a tactic she does often to try to pin my sister and I against each other. This is not everything, but more for background.
Her M.O. is to push the blame onto me about absolutely everything. And I mean, EVERYTHING. Even stuff that has nothing to do with me. Well, today she tried that but I caught her in a lie instead.
I had done some of mine and my sisters clothes right before she came down and I had a pair of scrubs under a sweater on the dryer that I hadn't put away yet. When she went into the laundry room to switch her laundry over (because she also tries to gatekeep the laundry room,) she lied and told me that she had just pulled the scrubs out of the dryer and said that even I mess up because I had actually put her clothes in the dryer and I hadn't taken them out. Of course she doesn't know that I knew those scrubs were NOT in that load and were already done previously.
It blew my mind.
I know she's done this before but my mind is so lost on how many times I thought I was just crazy or maybe thought I remembered wrong. And she's done this about everything. For my entire life. But I never caught her like this before.
It spiraled me and kicked up some other memories. Not good ones.
But now, every time she talks to me, I feel disgusted and angry. I can't do anything other than laugh because if I show emotion, especially the one I want, it won't end well and I'll end up being kicked out or something. But she also has an issue with me laughing with everything she says (which I would too, but I don't know how else to react). I can't believe a damn thing she says, which I thought I didn't before, but now it's so... open, is the best descriptive word I can say. I'm not exactly sure how else to describe it.
What do I do? I'm reeling. I made an appt with my therapist on Thursday but I realized today is MONDAY. I'm not sure if I can do this til Thursday.
I am not allowing myself to dive through more memories bc who knows what else I'll uncover.
Do I tell her I know? Would it help, would it make it worse? How do I stop myself from reacting to every little thing she says. I cringe and shiver even she says she loves me. It's a big physical reaction. Same when she tries the desperate thing. I can't help but laugh. I have to because otherwise I'd scream or end up sobbing. What do I do?
Has anyone been in this situation?? I need help.
I am so sorry if this does not make sense. I work overnight and haven't slept more than 2 hrs in two days. If I didn't answer something or you have questions about something, let me know and I'll answer. I need help on how to move on from this. Thank you in advance.
2024.05.14 05:23 birdopamine Boyfriend and dad are both alcoholics. Today was a bad day
So my boyfriend of 4 years recently relapsed. He was doing great for over a year. (I'm 30, he's 28). It's been really hard because I've left him before over this. He gets nasty and treats me poorly. He also doesn't see a problem driving drunk, even if I'm in the car, and won't let me drive his car. We got in a horrible fight over it 2 nights ago, and he was super verbally abusive to me.
Today, I had my sights set on breaking up with him again, but when I said it, I fell apart. It felt like I was sawing off my own arm and I couldn't follow through. It's my longest relationship and I got caught up in memories of when he was sober, the potential of it and everything..
Well, I had told my dad about the situation because he likes to know what's going on in my life. Today my dad asked me how I was doing, I said not great. Then he calls me and offers to bring some dinner over. I was touched by the gesture, because my dad hasn't always been a good dad... Well, he showed up to my house drunker than I've seen in a long time. He was stumbling, slurring words, being loud and obnoxious and belligerent. He dropped food on the floor and ate it right off the floor... I've never seen him do that before. And he DROVE LIKE THAT.
It was alarming, so painful, and I could feel my blood pressure going through the roof. It hurt me so bad that he would do this right after I TOLD HIM about my fight with my bf, being about drunk driving and how my heart was breaking because of that. Then he broke it too.
I'm honestly so disgusted. I feel shame for not just breaking up with my bf when I know this will probably keep happening. I don't want to repeat generational trauma... He is just like my dad in a lot of ways, and this whole thing was a wakeup call. But I'm still terrified to do it, and I'm overwhelmed.
So I let my dad finish his food before calmly telling him how I felt, that he knew my fight with my bf was about drunk driving, I was hurt by him doing it, and that I couldn't be around him like this, and I needed him to leave. He was really upset but he did leave. He drove off crazy and screeched the tires down the street. I haven't been able to stop worrying about his safety. But I'm proud of myself for at least protecting my boundaries with that situation. One of the first times I stood up to my dad like that. Just super sadgirl rn. So, thanks for reading.
submitted by birdopamine to Vent [link] [comments]
Today, I had my sights set on breaking up with him again, but when I said it, I fell apart. It felt like I was sawing off my own arm and I couldn't follow through. It's my longest relationship and I got caught up in memories of when he was sober, the potential of it and everything..
Well, I had told my dad about the situation because he likes to know what's going on in my life. Today my dad asked me how I was doing, I said not great. Then he calls me and offers to bring some dinner over. I was touched by the gesture, because my dad hasn't always been a good dad... Well, he showed up to my house drunker than I've seen in a long time. He was stumbling, slurring words, being loud and obnoxious and belligerent. He dropped food on the floor and ate it right off the floor... I've never seen him do that before. And he DROVE LIKE THAT.
It was alarming, so painful, and I could feel my blood pressure going through the roof. It hurt me so bad that he would do this right after I TOLD HIM about my fight with my bf, being about drunk driving and how my heart was breaking because of that. Then he broke it too.
I'm honestly so disgusted. I feel shame for not just breaking up with my bf when I know this will probably keep happening. I don't want to repeat generational trauma... He is just like my dad in a lot of ways, and this whole thing was a wakeup call. But I'm still terrified to do it, and I'm overwhelmed.
So I let my dad finish his food before calmly telling him how I felt, that he knew my fight with my bf was about drunk driving, I was hurt by him doing it, and that I couldn't be around him like this, and I needed him to leave. He was really upset but he did leave. He drove off crazy and screeched the tires down the street. I haven't been able to stop worrying about his safety. But I'm proud of myself for at least protecting my boundaries with that situation. One of the first times I stood up to my dad like that. Just super sadgirl rn. So, thanks for reading.
2024.05.14 05:19 GottaLoveKlover My boyfriends parents are SO OVERBEARING
To start I 17f have been dating my 17M boyfriend for 3 years, we are both 4.0 students, do sports and have a healthy social life. My mother was murdered 3 days before Christmas this last December and it’s been a hard loss.
Here is my list of shitty things his parents do that are insane! ~ his mom didn’t talk to me for 2 years, just ignored my existence and was extremely rude and distant to me no dinners no hanging out no anything ~ his dad was upset because me and jamie found out he was a registered child sex offender ~ didn’t say a word to me after knowing me for 2 years when my mom died, and only let him stay until 11 pm while I was vomiting and sobbing (it was a Friday night) ~ called me a runaway slut at 15 when I ran away from my abusers house, after being raped but never actually asked for the story just assumed ~ boyfriend doesn’t have google on his phone and never has (no he has never gotten in trouble or grounded) ~ boyfriend has no games on phone, no social media no nothing, and parents track every text and location. ~ we can only hangout 1 time a week with friends nothing else ~ not allowed to drive together or be in same car alone ~ not allowed to text me past 9pm ~ not allowed a Chromebook for school, and no home one so if he doesn’t get it done at a school he’s failing the assignment. ~ almost wasn’t allowed to go to my mothers funeral ~wasn’t allowed to stay overnight for my mothers funeral and was forced to drive 6+ hours in one day in the SNOW in a old shitty hundai, even though the we would be in different HOUSES
Anyways here is my actual question, I want to go to my hometown this Memorial Day, (my moms favorite holiday in this small town same one as previously mentioned) for 2 days for summer break and it’s still a no. And I’m just over it do I just break up with him this is a lot of drama for 17 years old
submitted by GottaLoveKlover to Advice [link] [comments]
Here is my list of shitty things his parents do that are insane! ~ his mom didn’t talk to me for 2 years, just ignored my existence and was extremely rude and distant to me no dinners no hanging out no anything ~ his dad was upset because me and jamie found out he was a registered child sex offender ~ didn’t say a word to me after knowing me for 2 years when my mom died, and only let him stay until 11 pm while I was vomiting and sobbing (it was a Friday night) ~ called me a runaway slut at 15 when I ran away from my abusers house, after being raped but never actually asked for the story just assumed ~ boyfriend doesn’t have google on his phone and never has (no he has never gotten in trouble or grounded) ~ boyfriend has no games on phone, no social media no nothing, and parents track every text and location. ~ we can only hangout 1 time a week with friends nothing else ~ not allowed to drive together or be in same car alone ~ not allowed to text me past 9pm ~ not allowed a Chromebook for school, and no home one so if he doesn’t get it done at a school he’s failing the assignment. ~ almost wasn’t allowed to go to my mothers funeral ~wasn’t allowed to stay overnight for my mothers funeral and was forced to drive 6+ hours in one day in the SNOW in a old shitty hundai, even though the we would be in different HOUSES
Anyways here is my actual question, I want to go to my hometown this Memorial Day, (my moms favorite holiday in this small town same one as previously mentioned) for 2 days for summer break and it’s still a no. And I’m just over it do I just break up with him this is a lot of drama for 17 years old
2024.05.14 05:17 lhighto I feel like a failure
I was really smart in school. Graduated with a 3.96 without really trying. Up until age 16 I had tons of friends, super outgoing and always entertaining everyone. Then depression hit. I was raised really religious and I committed my life to it until one day I just changed my mind. I was raised in the type of church where they think it’s their mission to save everyone, they’re better than everyone and they use scare tactics. Judgmental and gossipy. So I broke away, moved 8 hours away at 19 and went wild. Started drinking heavily for the first time, doing drugs, going to raves, hanging out with older people. I went through hell but partying and living life was all I cared about because I felt like I missed out on so much and wanted to be cool instead of this nerd I’d always been. I realized I was hot, and got super vain. I racked up $10,000 worth of debt over the years because despite my free ride to college, I never went after my first semester. None of that mattered anymore. Just learning how to be cool and making memories. Having fun. I bartended, worked salon front desks. I went through a lot of trauma and ended up with terrible ocd and dependent on older women in my life to the point that I would have panic attacks if I felt I was losing them. I depended on them fully. I was suicidal, self harmed, I was all over the place. Fast forward through eight years of chaos and I’m now 27. Moved back home and living in my dad’s RV. Thankfully it’s a very nice expensive RV, but I still feel like a failure. No career. No money saved. Been here 8 or 9 months and still have $6,000 worth of debt to pay off. I got humbled and I work to try to change daily. I read, listen to podcasts, build new habits, I’m closer than ever with my family, I don’t go out, I am starting to dig through my past in therapy, I journal. I’m trying. But I’m broke. 27. No friends. No career. Living with my dad. And debt. And trauma. 😞
submitted by lhighto to latetwenties [link] [comments]
2024.05.14 05:17 lhighto I feel like a failure
I was really smart in school. Graduated with a 3.96 without really trying. Up until age 16 I had tons of friends, super outgoing and always entertaining everyone. Then depression hit. I was raised really religious and I committed my life to it until one day I just changed my mind. I was raised in the type of church where they think it’s their mission to save everyone, they’re better than everyone and they use scare tactics. Judgmental and gossipy. So I broke away, moved 8 hours away at 19 and went wild. Started drinking heavily for the first time, doing drugs, going to raves, hanging out with older people. I went through hell but partying and living life was all I cared about because I felt like I missed out on so much and wanted to be cool instead of this nerd I’d always been. I realized I was hot, and got super vain. I racked up $10,000 worth of debt over the years because despite my free ride to college, I never went after my first semester. None of that mattered anymore. Just learning how to be cool and making memories. Having fun. I bartended, worked salon front desks. I went through a lot of trauma and ended up with terrible ocd and dependent on older women in my life to the point that I would have panic attacks if I felt I was losing them. I depended on them fully. I was suicidal, self harmed, I was all over the place. Fast forward through eight years of chaos and I’m now 27. Moved back home and living in my dad’s RV. Thankfully it’s a very nice expensive RV, but I still feel like a failure. No career. No money saved. Been here 8 or 9 months and still have $6,000 worth of debt to pay off. I got humbled and I work to try to change daily. I read, listen to podcasts, build new habits, I’m closer than ever with my family, I don’t go out, I am starting to dig through my past in therapy, I journal. I’m trying. But I’m broke. 27. No friends. No career. Living with my dad. And debt. And trauma. 😞
submitted by lhighto to Adulting [link] [comments]
2024.05.14 05:03 Weary_Explorer_548 May i be born pretty in my next life
I hate myself. I hate everything about myself. I hate how i draw, i hate my body, i hate my face, i hate how awkward i look like while doing stuff. I hate looking into mirrors or looking at pics and vids of myself, it just reminds me that I'm a fat and ugly loser with wasted potential. If reincarnation was real, i really do hope i become a person worthy to be proud of. Everytime i start feeling good about life my appearance ruins everything. Whenever i see my friends complain how "ugly" they are, it infuriates me. They're skinny, they're pretty, and people like them without even needing to know them. It infuriates me that whenever i try to be pretty i always end up looking like a pig with lipstick on. I've only existed on this planet for 16 years and i already want to end it all, all for such a stupid reason... I've been clean of sh for 2 years till now. I suck. I wish i would die in a freak accident so i don't have to feel the guilt of leaving my family behind before i kill myself. They don't deserve a daughter, a niece, a cousin, and a sister like me. I was better off not existing to begin with. I don't want to imagine my mom at my funeral, nor how my dad would feel coming back home from overseas working hard for my family just to be given the news that i had died, neither do i want my little brothers to lose their sister, the youngest is only 4 years old, to him I'll just become a distant memory. Writing this has made me realise just how much of a burden i am to my family. They deserve more than me. I'm grateful for everything they've given. I just wish inwas grateful enough to cherish my life.
submitted by Weary_Explorer_548 to SuicideWatch [link] [comments]
2024.05.14 05:03 No_Savings_9588 AITA for making my ex drive an hour to drop off and pick up our son?
Our usual meeting spot is about 20-30 min for her and about 30 min to 1.5 hours (depending on traffic) for me.
For context the relationship between my ex and I is contentious so i try not to talk to her unless it’s about the kids. We just had a 3 year court battle with kid withholding, a lot of her accusing me of being a bad dad and dangerous and me ultimately gaining primary custody. Our 15 year old son lives with us and sees his mom every other weekend. I pay for everything and it’s been hard getting her to even pay for some medical fees, though to be fair she buys him nice clothes and 200 dollar jordans occasionally.
I had a trip planned for ages over memorial day which is my ex’s weekend - when all of a sudden our son tells me last month his friend asked him to be in a quinceneara end of may. No details, nothing on time, just the date. I told him its his moms weekend and he needs to talk to her about it which he keeps claiming he did, as she even took him to a practice on her weekend. I also mentioned it to her.
I finally got the friend’s parent’s number out of my son this week and texted asking for details. Turns out it won’t end until 10-1030 pm and then they are driving the kids back to our city which is 45 min away making it super late for my ex to pick him up. I told her i can arrange for him to sleepover at his friends house that he sleeps over at often who will also he at the quince and she can get him the next morning if that’s easier.
So now she is mad at me saying I’m a bad co-parent and why am I going out of town, she would have preferred to switch weekends if she knew it was so late and she had to drive an hour, that he is 15 years old and too young to be out until 12 am (and shouldn’t be sleeping over at friend’s houses). I think we landed on her picking him up from the quince early because she doesn’t want him staying out but I feel like this is still somehow my fault because of how mad she was, like I should have cancelled my vacation or something and just taken the hit financially or shouldn’t have gone in the first place or should I have just told my son he couldn’t go to the quince?
AITA?
submitted by No_Savings_9588 to AmItheAsshole [link] [comments]
For context the relationship between my ex and I is contentious so i try not to talk to her unless it’s about the kids. We just had a 3 year court battle with kid withholding, a lot of her accusing me of being a bad dad and dangerous and me ultimately gaining primary custody. Our 15 year old son lives with us and sees his mom every other weekend. I pay for everything and it’s been hard getting her to even pay for some medical fees, though to be fair she buys him nice clothes and 200 dollar jordans occasionally.
I had a trip planned for ages over memorial day which is my ex’s weekend - when all of a sudden our son tells me last month his friend asked him to be in a quinceneara end of may. No details, nothing on time, just the date. I told him its his moms weekend and he needs to talk to her about it which he keeps claiming he did, as she even took him to a practice on her weekend. I also mentioned it to her.
I finally got the friend’s parent’s number out of my son this week and texted asking for details. Turns out it won’t end until 10-1030 pm and then they are driving the kids back to our city which is 45 min away making it super late for my ex to pick him up. I told her i can arrange for him to sleepover at his friends house that he sleeps over at often who will also he at the quince and she can get him the next morning if that’s easier.
So now she is mad at me saying I’m a bad co-parent and why am I going out of town, she would have preferred to switch weekends if she knew it was so late and she had to drive an hour, that he is 15 years old and too young to be out until 12 am (and shouldn’t be sleeping over at friend’s houses). I think we landed on her picking him up from the quince early because she doesn’t want him staying out but I feel like this is still somehow my fault because of how mad she was, like I should have cancelled my vacation or something and just taken the hit financially or shouldn’t have gone in the first place or should I have just told my son he couldn’t go to the quince?
AITA?
2024.05.14 04:58 No_Ant540 FMC gets with her bully’s dad or brother
Hello everyone!
I have been looking everywhere for reads where the FMC ends up with her bully’s dad or brother. It can even be another family member or someone close to the bully. I’ll even take her stealing her bf!
What got me on this hunt was I have a faint memory of reading a similar book. It was something like the bully got her brother in on it to basically seduce the FMC and ended up really liking her and maybe getting her pregnant. I’m not sure if that’s real because I can’t find it anywhere 🤣 then I thought getting with the dad would be awesome!
Extra points if the bully causes lots of drama. Super points if the bully gets her comeuppance.
So far the only one I could fine was: My bully’s father by Jordan Silver.
Edit to add: it could be her bully from younger years and she gets with the MMC years later.
submitted by No_Ant540 to RomanceBooks [link] [comments]
I have been looking everywhere for reads where the FMC ends up with her bully’s dad or brother. It can even be another family member or someone close to the bully. I’ll even take her stealing her bf!
What got me on this hunt was I have a faint memory of reading a similar book. It was something like the bully got her brother in on it to basically seduce the FMC and ended up really liking her and maybe getting her pregnant. I’m not sure if that’s real because I can’t find it anywhere 🤣 then I thought getting with the dad would be awesome!
Extra points if the bully causes lots of drama. Super points if the bully gets her comeuppance.
So far the only one I could fine was: My bully’s father by Jordan Silver.
Edit to add: it could be her bully from younger years and she gets with the MMC years later.
2024.05.14 04:39 Gold-Repeat2918 Aita for not caring about what my son's father wants?
I want to preface this with I do not really think I'm the ah in this situation but I am feeling a little guilty over my decision. Also, on mobile so sorry if there is any issues.
My son's deadbeat father has crawled out of the woodwork claiming he wants to "make things right."
Background:
I was in a relationship for a little over a year and a half with my son's father. I got pregnant early on in the relationship & by the time my son was about 6 months old, the relationship was over.
After that, I was blocked everywhere and had no contact from him for a few months when he wanted to get together to "try to figure out" the relationship between "father" and son. This started a pattern for whenever he gets the itch to reach out, he will for a couple of weeks/couple of months then I won't hear from him for a year. The last time I heard from him was 2022.
My son does not know him, hasn't seen him since he was under 1. Has no memory of him. But is at the age where he is starting to question where his dad is and why he doesn't have one while everyone else does.
My son's bio dad does accept responsibility for being the one who ruined the relationship and the one who walked away. Although now he is claiming "I told him he wasn't the father"(I didn't say that) and that was what caused him to walk away, but he has never brought this up in the almost 6 years my son has been alive until now. (Also, he looks just like his bio dad & his half brother on that side). I just feel like it is ridiculous that he thinks he can just waltz back in and demand a chance for a relationship with the kid he abandoned.
Now to the present, he has reached out to me again, claiming he wants to make things right. But I don't want anything to do with him. i do not want my son to have anything to do with him. I do not want to facilitate a relationship between him and my son. It's been almost six years without that relationship. I think that having a dad that bounces in and out of my son's life is worse than not having a dad in his life at all.
I told him that we should keep things the way they have been for the last 5.5 years because my son doesn't deserve to have his heart broken when he disappears again & I do not deserve to deal with the fallout of that. But he keeps messaging me and telling me to give him a chance to make it right.
Aita for not being open to a relationship between my son and his deadbeat father?
submitted by Gold-Repeat2918 to AITAH [link] [comments]
My son's deadbeat father has crawled out of the woodwork claiming he wants to "make things right."
Background:
I was in a relationship for a little over a year and a half with my son's father. I got pregnant early on in the relationship & by the time my son was about 6 months old, the relationship was over.
After that, I was blocked everywhere and had no contact from him for a few months when he wanted to get together to "try to figure out" the relationship between "father" and son. This started a pattern for whenever he gets the itch to reach out, he will for a couple of weeks/couple of months then I won't hear from him for a year. The last time I heard from him was 2022.
My son does not know him, hasn't seen him since he was under 1. Has no memory of him. But is at the age where he is starting to question where his dad is and why he doesn't have one while everyone else does.
My son's bio dad does accept responsibility for being the one who ruined the relationship and the one who walked away. Although now he is claiming "I told him he wasn't the father"(I didn't say that) and that was what caused him to walk away, but he has never brought this up in the almost 6 years my son has been alive until now. (Also, he looks just like his bio dad & his half brother on that side). I just feel like it is ridiculous that he thinks he can just waltz back in and demand a chance for a relationship with the kid he abandoned.
Now to the present, he has reached out to me again, claiming he wants to make things right. But I don't want anything to do with him. i do not want my son to have anything to do with him. I do not want to facilitate a relationship between him and my son. It's been almost six years without that relationship. I think that having a dad that bounces in and out of my son's life is worse than not having a dad in his life at all.
I told him that we should keep things the way they have been for the last 5.5 years because my son doesn't deserve to have his heart broken when he disappears again & I do not deserve to deal with the fallout of that. But he keeps messaging me and telling me to give him a chance to make it right.
Aita for not being open to a relationship between my son and his deadbeat father?
2024.05.14 04:32 lhighto I feel like a failure
I was really smart in school. Graduated with a 3.96 without really trying. Up until age 16 I had tons of friends, super outgoing and always entertaining everyone. Then depression hit. I was raised really religious and I committed my life to it until one day I just changed my mind. I was raised in the type of church where they think it’s their mission to save everyone, they’re better than everyone and they use scare tactics. Judgmental and gossipy. So I broke away, moved 8 hours away at 19 and went wild. Started drinking heavily for the first time, doing drugs, going to raves, hanging out with older people. I went through hell but partying and living life was all I cared about because I felt like I missed out on so much and wanted to be cool instead of this nerd I’d always been. I realized I was hot, and got super vain. I racked up $10,000 worth of debt over the years because despite my free ride to college, I never went after my first semester. None of that mattered anymore. Just learning how to be cool and making memories. Having fun. I bartended, worked salon front desks. I went through a lot of trauma and ended up with terrible ocd and dependent on older women in my life to the point that I would have panic attacks if I felt I was losing them. I depended on them fully. I was suicidal, self harmed, I was all over the place. Fast forward through eight years of chaos and I’m now 27. Moved back home and living in my dad’s RV. Thankfully it’s a very nice expensive RV, but I still feel like a failure. No career. No money saved. Been here 8 or 9 months and still have $6,000 worth of debt to pay off. I got humbled and I work to try to change daily. I read, listen to podcasts, build new habits, I’m closer than ever with my family, I don’t go out, I am starting to dig through my past in therapy, I journal. I’m trying. But I’m broke. 27. No friends. No career. Living with my dad. And debt. And trauma. 😞
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2024.05.14 04:28 Godzilla-30 Does anyone remember the incident of February 23rd, 2014? [Part 2]
It is a man, old and scraggy. He wears a jacket that lays over the red plaid button shirt and blue jeans. He wears an old baseball cap and a pair of glasses. He yelled something to Dad, holding his hands up like he was pleading, although we couldn’t hear it over the truck engine. They talked, but we couldn’t hear what they were saying.
“Hey, what are they saying”, I asked, while petting Matt’s hair, calming him. The old man then put his hands down and came close to Dad in a cautious way. They seem to start having some kind of conversation.
“I don’t really know, hopefully, something good”, Mom answered. They talked for a little while, with daylight beginning to disappear, giving us a sense of dread, and making me more worried about what weird creature was going to show up. Eventually, the old man turned and pointed toward what I think is the northeast. They then shook hands and walked back to their respective vehicles. “What’s going on”, Mom asked as Dad got into the truck.
“Well, our new friend here invited us to dinner at his farm”, Dad replied.
“Does he have supplies?”
“Well, he says has supplies for us to make the journey.”
“Should we even trust him? We just met h-”
“Relax, he’s just an old man, living alone at his farm, feeding his cows. What could go wrong”, Dad countered. The old man then entered the truck that was running and drove slowly, expecting us to follow him.
“Alrighty then, but we have to be cautious”, Mom said, with her suspicions of the old man. We then followed the old truck along the dark, frozen road. It just feels like something is going to show up along the road, but nothing happened. Matt did eventually stop crying, but he is still upset about the Joe escape thing.
“Where are we going”, Matt lamented, with the prior series of events in mind.
“I guess somebody is offering us dinner”, I answered.
“Why can’t we just go home?”
“It’s only going to be a stop, like a hotel. After that, we go to our new home, I guess”, I said, taking another look at Matt and cradling to comfort him. “It’s going to be okay.” I stared out into the darkness. I looked to the sky from the window and I faintly saw something in the clear, dark sky, lit up by the waning moon. They were brilliant, green auroras that defy the bright moon, dancing across the sky like ribbons in the wind. The truck eventually took a right-hand turn into another road, with us following suit. I can see a bright, orange light emerging from a patch of tree. When we passed by, it seemed it was a house, at a farm, burning in a massive flame.
“I guess those people aren’t so, uh, lucky”, Dad said, taking a quick look at it before looking at the road. Passing by, we went on and continued to follow the old man’s truck. We passed onto another intersection until he turned into a driveway to what I believe to be his farm. Going into the driveway, I can see an old house, along with a dilapidated farm further away, barely visible by the headlights. The old man parked by the house, where there were a few other trucks there. We parked alongside the truck and we got out into the cold, near-silent night.
“Welcome to sanctuary, where all are welcome”, the old man bellowed. This is the first time I’ve heard his voice. Matt was the last to get out of the truck, slowly and clumsily climbing out of the truck.
“What’s your name”, my Mom politely asked the old man.
“Oh, I guess your husband didn’t tell ya. My name is Steven, but you can call me Steve”, the old man said, with some crackling in his voice. “I am very proud to host a dinner for you and your family”, he continued. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Oh, my name is Janice”, Mom replied, quite pleased at his politeness.
“Hello, Janice, and what are their names”, Steven asked, pointing to me and Matt.
“That’s my daughter Kate and my son Matt”, Dad said to Mom.
“Oh, what wonderful names for a couple of beautiful children you have”, Steve grinned. “Come, it is dangerous out here.” We followed him to the house, which looked like it had seen better days. He entered through the double-set door, the first a solid door and a screen door behind. Entering the house, it smelled like what you’d expect, old man. Looking onto the floor is made of glossy wood and walls with cracks, likely caused by the earthquake. It is dark in there, lit by candlelight from many candles, yet it’s fairly warm here. I don’t know why we went into the house, but Dad was right, Steve is just a lonely, old man. Matter of fact, there seems to be nothing wrong here, other than the cracks in the walls. “Sorry, the power went out. Had to resort to the candles. I knew my wife would come in handy”, Steve explained as he took his coat off. “Oh, supper will be ready right away. Had to use the fireplace to cook. Also, can you take your boots off?” We took our boots and set them aside. We went into what seemed to be a living room, with dusty old-style furniture.
“So, where do we sit”, Mom asked.
“Oh, well, follow me”, Steve commanded, leading us to the dining room, with a long, wooden table and six wooden chairs, along with their corresponding old-fashioned plates, glasses and cutlery, lit up in the candlelight. We noticed that everything on the table was covered in a thin veil of dust. “My apologies, the recent shocks dropped a bit of dust on the table”, he explained as he noticed us looking at the plates and moved into another room nearby. “Take your seats if you like.” We all settled onto the chairs, and blew off our plates of the dust settled there.
“When will we eat”, Matt impatiently said.
“Once Steve comes out with the food”, Mom answered. Matt sat there with a tired look on his face. Dad seemed to be in a better mood than before and it looked like he wanted to start a conversation.
“Hey, should we talk about something”, Dad asked. I then see Steve with a bowl and a silver plate.
“Here we go, may not be much, but at least it’ll fulfil the soul”, Steve said, smiling when he served us mashed potatoes and meatloaf. “So, shall we pray?” That came unexpectedly, as we are not too religious, but we were in his house and gave us shelter and food.
“Sure, we can do that”, Mom said and we all bowed our heads and put our hands together. Steve cleared his throat
“Thank you, Lord, for this good food to feed the soul in these hard times. I shall pray, in the name of the Lord and Jesus Christ, that these hard times shall be over, so we can get on with our lives. Amen.” We raised our heads and grabbed whatever food there was onto our plates. “Oh, there’s no gravy, so we have to deal with bare potaters and meatloaf.”
“Oh, not to worry. Thank you for the food”, Dad thanked Steve. We began to eat the food once we got it sorted.
“So, what brings you here”, Steve asked.
“Well, there is an evacuation order in effect for this area, so we had to go to Regina”, Dad explained, with Steve taking in every word. “So, we came from Strasbourg, we tried going south towards Regina, but we hit an obstacle in the way and we had to take another route, leading us here.”
“And we encountered a few odd things along the way”, Mom added.
“Huh, interesting. What do you guys think is going on”, Steve inquired.
“By the things we saw, we have no idea. Dinosaurs, devil dogs, hell pigs, the whole deal. I shouldn’t forget the earthquake. They told us a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake”, Dad clarified to Steve.
“Hmm… is that so”, Steve wondered. “Wonder what I think is happening? The Rapture is happening. Do you know how the Bible tells us of the end times? Good people sent to be with God and his kingdom, the rest here to suffer the Hell unleashed by Satan.” By this point, he was beginning to rant, but we couldn't stop it as we all began to feel tired and powerless. “So, the Devil will send his demons in the form of these illusions so that they can torment the sinners. It is happening, it is-” Steve manically continued as I drew towards blackness and his voice becoming less coherent. My vision is now all black.
I saw those same lights, but more rapidly than before. I then emerged onto the same clear sky, but something felt different. I can smell something in the air. I can smell what seems to be chemicals in the air. Looking down, I was terrified. Dark, grey rock in the shape of ropes and folds, similar to those I saw of lava flows on a volcano in pictures. This went on as far as the eye could see. I can see no tree this time, just the cooled lava everywhere. I then walked, feeling every bump and crag. I thought I walked forever until I heard a rumbling sound and woke up.
I am in total darkness. It is cold and it smells like cow manure. I tried to move my hand, but it seemed to be bonded behind my back by a rope. I tried to move my feet, but they were also bound by rope to the legs I tried to speak, only to realise my mouth was agape by a cloth in my mouth. I heard shuffling nearby but I could not see. It was then shone in light when Steve entered the door, holding a candle, revealing all of us in the same situation. I then can see what we are in. We are in that same wooden dilapidated barn we saw earlier and seems to be more damaged than the house, wood creaking can be heard.
“These sedatives are more effective than I thought. Maybe I should use them more often”, Steve smoothly explained, like he’s some kind of agent and began pacing. “Wonder why you are here? Well, I wondered the same thing to myself, why didn’t God take me to his heaven? When I first heard of the government telling us of those evacuation plans, I thought it was that, a leaking pipe. I began to notice things I couldn’t believe myself, at least at first. Earthquakes, weird creatures showing up, people disappearing, the whole spiel. I connected the dots. The Rapture is happening, for sure, but why me? Why was I the one left here on this Earth”, Steve calmly ranted, pacing around the barn, but it seemed to sound crazier and angrier the more he paced. “I thought I had lost my way. I’ve been unfaithful to God and his son. But, I realised that God always has a plan and he left me on this Earth to serve a purpose. I wondered what my purpose was until I had a moment.” He then stopped in place and calmed down. He turned to look at Mom with accusing yet crazed eyes.
“I’m supposed to keep the sinners here in line, to earn a place in God’s kingdom, or suffer in Hell. I know you are a sweet woman, Janice, but your treachery with Satan is over and I am going to do what’s right.” Mom then looked at all of us, with assuring eyes like that of an innocent yet caring mother we all know knew. I began crying and trying to speak through the cloth, but I was helpless to watch by. “Forgive me, Father, for what I am going to do.” He then pulled a knife from his pocket and plunged it into Mom’s neck with no mercy. I looked away once he did that, trembling, with tears pouring out and my vision glazed and I fell limp. I could see my brother tearing up, but he did not look away. I can hear Dad behind me, with his screams of agony and anger covered by the cloth. It felt like I was in slow motion, taking in every moment.
I then heard the chair, screeching as Steve dragged the chair containing Mom’s lifeless body towards the door, leaving behind a trail of blood. I couldn’t bear to see my mother like this. I shut my eyes very hard and hoped it would go away. The door then shut, leaving us alone with a candle, fearing what would come next. I stared at the candle, seeing it dance in the flames like a woman dancing in the darkness. Is this how it’ll end, I thought. End up dying to this sick man? My Mom was killed in front of me. I sobbed with that thought, then I began to think about the inevitable death of me. I hope there’s something after I die. Maybe I’ll see Mom again.
It was silent for a while, nearly no sound other than our moans. Dad seems to be fidgeting at the back of his chair, rocking it slowly. Looking past him, I shuddered at the glistening pool of blood, where Mom was last alive, could be my fate. I then see Dad release his arms from the back of the chair and remove the cloth from his mouth. He silently stood up and bent down to untie his legs from the chair legs. He then went to me and removed my cloth.
“H-h-how did you do that”, I silently wept, fearing that Steve would show up at the door and kill us all.
“My binding is loose. The old man probably took a liking to me”, Dad whispered. “I should remove your binds.” He untied them, releasing me, doing the same for Matt. “Now, we need to be quiet.” We then walked, quietly, along the painfully creaking wood in the near dark, following the blood trail, glistening in the candlelight. We cringed and dreaded each sound we made and watched the door in case it began to creak open. A few silent steps later, we made it to the door and we slowly opened it so as not to make any noise. What was revealed to us is nothing new, other than the blood trail continuing in the snow directing towards the back of the barn. “Okay, Kate, Matt, you guys run to the truck.”
“What about you”, I sobbed.
“Don’t worry about me”, Dad responded, giving me his keys and forcing them into my hand. “If I’m not back in a few minutes, leave. Don’t look back, take care of your brother, okay? I love you, no matter what happens.” He then kissed me on the head and ran to follow the blood trail. We quickly walked towards the black truck, stranded there for maybe hours. Getting closer, freedom is getting closer. When we got to a fair distance to the truck, I heard footsteps behind me and, the next thing I knew, I was knocked over to the ground into the hard snow on my face. A hand turned me over to give me a glimpse of a crazed Steve, his eyes wilder than before.
“Oh, yes, trying to escape”, he bragged. I looked at him, frozen in fear, like a deer in headlights and he caressed my face with his bloodied blade. “You do have a pretty face, but I’m afraid you are just one of Satan's creations, made to pull me to lust.” He then raised his knife in the air when a familiar side emerged, out of the blue.
Joe came and bit him in the arm that was holding the knife. Steve screamed in agony the moment he realised what happened. He shook Joe off and stood up to stand his ground. I stood up as Joe hissed and walked around the crazed being he wounded, not in fear but in aggressiveness. “Is this one of your pets, demon”, Steve screamed as Joe came in for another attack, but Steve countered that with a slash to the snout. Joe then ran away, whining, into the darkness. This sequence of events gave me the chance to enter the truck on the driver’s side. I had some trouble starting it, besides this is my first time driving a truck.
Steve menacelily walked towards the when Dad came barreling and tackled him to the ground. Dad was on top when he went limp. I finally put the keys in the engine turned it on and backed out, with memory serving me the instructions on such a vehicle. Steve pushed Dad’s body and stood up, but by that time, we left the farm.
“Turn back, we have to get Dad”, Matt cried, but I was very emotional, accepting what happened. I felt that, without my parents, I feel… useless.
“Dad’s dead”, I screamed at Matt and he began gagging uncontrollably in tears. I began to feel sorry for him. “Sorry, I, I don’t know.”
“It’s okay”, Matt sniffled. “I guess Mom and Dad are dead anyways.” It was silence for a few more minutes, tears welling in our eyes.
“Hey, our parents are in a better place”, I said, trying to make the situation positive.
“But we are stuck here, without them? Don’t we deserve to go to a better place?”
“Don’t say that”, I huffed and I paused for a bit. “I know we are in the, uh, right place now. Let me tell you something, once we get to Regina, I will take care of you, no matter what life throws at us.”
“What about Joe”, Matt asked.
“He’ll be fine. He probably found his girlfriend already.”
“Hey, don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“I, uh, I don’t have one. That I know of”, I spoke, bringing me back to Sam, remembering that she’s the only friend that I ever knew, and I left her. Without her, I felt alone, no one would ever relate. I began to tear up. “I don’t have any friends. I am alone,” I sobbed.
“What do you mean? I’m your brother!” I looked at Matt, and smiled, happy that he acknowledged that we were in this together.
“Thank you”, I thanked him. I slowly stopped on the road, just to hug Matt hard, crying my eyes out. We then heard what sounded like an elephant in front of us. We looked up to see a walking snow-covered brown fur wall with four pillar-like legs in front of us. Its curved tusks gleaned in the light and the eyes reflected in the light. The furry trunk waved around like a searching snake from a tree. We both knew what it was.
“Hey, look at that, a woolly mammoth”, Matt said, excitement running through him. At this point, we weren’t surprised.
“Yep, that is a woolly mammoth”, I added. The mammoth turned to us on the road, seemingly confused about where it was. It looked at our truck and seemed to growl, like an elephant. We are starting to realise this thing is becoming aggressive.
“Uh, should we move”, Matt asked. I remembered hearing something about standing your ground in case of an encounter with an elephant. I hoped it would work for a bigger, furrier version of one.
“No, we have to stand our ground.”
“But, it’ll attack u-”
“Trust me!” I then honked my horn and it backed up. It then rushed, then stopped, a mock charge. Eventually, it moved out of the road, disappearing into the darkness. We sighed in relief.
“That was close”, Matt sighed. I then continued to drive in the night, headlights leading the way. The road is bumpy, as noticed by every ditch and peak we hit, but surprisingly, Matt was fast asleep. I began to get comfortable driving and used to the road by that point. It was silent for a while until we hit a smaller intersection. That is when the truck shut down, completely and stopped. I tried the gas many times but with no effect. There is no light, nothing. It is near-darkness here, shone only by the moonlight.
“Shit”, I yelled, desperate to turn the truck on without much success. Matt woke up, confused.
“What happened”, he yawned.
“The truck turned itself off. I can’t get it back on”, I fretted and at that moment, Matt was just as panicked as I am.
“Why?”
“I-I don’t know. One moment, we were driving, another it just-”, I quavered, when I heard something rustle in the distance. We stood still, hoping whatever it was didn’t find us. I looked around, hoping to see something in the moonlight. I then see a long, walking animal. It looked like some sort of alligator at first, except for a dinosaur-like head. Once I strained my eyes to the darkness, my fear levels rose as I could see it walk on its hind limbs, with its forelimbs dangling nearly touching the ground.
It was wandering around on the road when I heard a near-crocodilian growl at Matt’s side of the truck. Another of those creatures appeared, seemingly looking into the window like a hungry bear, giving us a chance to see its scaly head. Its exposed alligator teeth gleaned in the light like knives, but more terrifying was the eye. Its serpentine pupil shone brilliantly in the light like eyes in the dark. It then ducked down, gave a hiss, and moved towards the other one. A few more showed up and formed a group.
“What should we do”, Matt asked. “Should we stay?” I looked around, hoping for another way to escape them without them noticing. I further strained my eyes and mentally mapped out the area. There is a cemetery on my right-hand side, a grain bin storage yard on my left and a series of trailers on the other side of the highway, which is ahead of us, from the storage area. There, I see a series of white, storage buildings, something we can go to and wait it out inside.
“Okay, so slowly open the door”, I instructed Matt. The click of the doors opening cringed us. We looked at the group, but there was no response from them. We then, as slowly as we could, opened the door and stepped out. Still no response. Matt then quietly ran to the other side, towards me. “Okay, we are going into the storage yard and go to the other entrance”, I said, pointing to the other right-hand corner. I wanted to get as far away from these things as possible before making a safe crossing. “Then, we cross the highway on the other side, run into the buildings and stay there for the night. Are you ready?”
“I guess”, he whispered, looking at me in fearful doubt.
“We are going to do this”, I whispered back. We then silently ran over, having to rely on our night-adapted eyes, to the corner, walking past the bins. We made it and nothing behind us so far. “We’re good so far.” We then crossed the road and noticed nothing. We noticed a tanker truck, leaking some sort of fluid across the road. I easily recognized it as fuel, based on its distinctive, sickly smell. I wouldn’t be worried about it if it weren’t for a collapsed light pole that is somehow still flickering with electricity near the area where the fuel would be flowing. We quickly avoided the fluid when I froze to see the group of the walking alligators, running towards us. “Run!” Matt tried to run, but one of those things appeared and clamped its jaws at the back of his neck. He yelped in pain and it took him down to the ground. “Matt”, I yelled, helplessly watching as the creature tore into him.
Matt reached out his arm before the others came to him, then a flash of fire came. At this point, I knew what happened, but I couldn’t even think before it exploded. It blew me towards the building, far away. I was knocked out for a few seconds before I regained consciousness, groaning in pain on the ice. I noticed something especially painful just below my chest. I reached towards the area with my hand. I pressed on it, more painful than ever and raised my hand, only to see blood, brightened by the fire. I realised I was wounded, maybe by shrapnel made by the explosion.
I looked toward where the truck was and all I saw was a blaze. Those things weren’t there, at least. I also noticed something else, too, there’s no Matt. I tried to look around for something, some sort of sign of my brother within the fire, but I saw none. I then wept, realising I had failed. I have failed to keep him safe. I have failed to give him a better life. I failed him as a sister. I could’ve done better. The thoughts poured in as tears glazed my eyes. At that moment, I failed to look around me.
I noticed a dark thing beside the blaze. I thought it was Matt, preparing to greet him back, even though I knew he couldn’t survive the explosion. The image became clearer and clearer as I noticed it was one of the walking crocs that, glazed by the fire, was coming towards me.
“Just kill me”, I screamed, preparing to painfully die to meet my maker. The creature was about to attack me when something large, silent as the wind, came charging and clamped down its massive jaws, filled with conical teeth on the hapless creature and raised it. The crocodile struggled before going limp with a crunch within its strong jaws. The big, dark and scaly monster that it is towered over me and is as long as a bus, possibly longer. Its large legs are a contradiction to its small arms that hide beneath its scarred, bulky body.
It turned to look at me with an oddly bird-like expression, revealing in the firelight numerous scars from battles I could never know and looked at me with its beady bird-like eyes, breathing out wisps from its nostrils like a dragon in the cool air. I recognized it as a creature I know too well, a T. Rex. I breathed heavily and sickly, looking at the thing, nearly expecting me to drop the body and go after me. Instead, it simply walked away, carrying its bloody prize with it, and steadily retreated into the darkness.
I then lay down in agonizing exhaustion on my back, thinking of the next step of action like I'm on a suicide mission I would never come back from. I looked in the direction of the graveyard and had one thought. I guess I am dying. a graveyard will do. I struggled to stand up, noticing my blood-soaked clothes and felt a broken left leg. I grasped my wound, limping step by step and enduring the sharp pain while shaking in the cold. Every step I took, I remembered all the memories, good or bad, that I had with my parents. My brother. My friends. My family. I eventually reached the cemetery and slouched at a tree.
“Guess I’m joining you, guys”, I said, speaking to the snow-covered gravestones, only to hear something. A familiar sound of chirping emerged and, lit by the blaze, it was a sight I can hope for. “Joe, what are you doing here”, I depressingly cheered as Joe went to me and curled up in my lap as if he were a cat. I noticed the new-found scar he had on his little snout, but I paid no mind as I petted him. “I guess you came back. Thank you so much for what you did”, I thanked him, not expecting such a loyal creature would be with me, comforting me, to the end, like what my mother used to do when I was a newborn. I heard another noise, this time a deep rumble.
I thought it was another earthquake coming, but it got louder the closer it got to me, becoming more animalistic only felt small vibrations I barely felt. Joe stayed put, oddly enough, as T. Rex, different from the first one, came. It walked towards us until it stopped short of us. It began to produce a low-pitched, bird-like purring, attracting Joe. I realised something, that this T. Rex is Joe’s parent. He joined the rest like him, whom they showed up and all chirped around.
The grown Rex then brought its snout closer to me, not to kill me, but to look at me. It did not reveal its teeth and was still purring. I put my hand out and its nose came close to it. It rubbed it against my hand and started to pet its cold, scaly skin as it breathed through its nose and put it on my chest. I rested my head on it before it pulled away. It gave out a hiss, but I knew it wasn’t that of a threat, but more of a thank you for bringing its small, sometimes immature, child home.
That gave me relief, as it felt like I at least did something for once. They walked away, along with Joe, towards the darkness amongst the gravestones in the cemetery. I glimpsed one last desperate look at Joe before walking beside his parent. I looked up at the sky and I could see all the stars, twinkling, and the dancing green auroras. I began to feel limp and felt the cold embrace of death coming over me, tears pouring out of my eyes. The sky then grew brighter and brighter, the stars faded into the light and I could see my family welcoming me to a new home. It then slowly went black, darker than a cave.
You would think this is the end of me. It wasn’t, or else I wouldn’t be writing this right now. I eventually woke up in a hospital in Regina. I was told I was rescued by a team that transported me while I was in a coma. The doctors said I was very lucky to be alive, as the shrapnel narrowly avoided my vital organs. After that, I was adopted into a new family, but I was only with them for a couple of years before finding a new job and moving out.
As for Sam, I don’t know what happened to her. I would like to think she is safe, somewhere else. As for my family, I think of them all the time. I was in a depressive period right after that. Eventually, over the years, I accepted that they were gone and went to a better place. For Joe, I would like to think he is all grown up, like his parents, and becoming the king of the jungle. I hope we meet again.
As for the evacuated area, it wasn’t some pipeline rupture that caused an evaluation, but an anomaly, with the exact reason not known. There are excuses for the claims of weird stuff going on in there, from disease to chemicals, to eventually a previously unknown geological event, but I saw through it all.
You may ask how, it's because I've been there. Take it or leave it, this is the story I have. As the decade came by, cover-ups were made to hide it, even walls were put around it. Since the incident, the exclusion zone grew from a mere 80 kilometers in diameter to 460 kilometers in diameter, emptying entire cities of the likes of Regina and Saskatoon. I had to move to North Battleford, by the recommendation from the same government covering it up, making me think that time will tell before the floodgates of truth open.
The anomaly didn’t have a name initially, however, over the years, everyone agreed on one name in particular: The Saskatchewan Anomaly.
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“Hey, what are they saying”, I asked, while petting Matt’s hair, calming him. The old man then put his hands down and came close to Dad in a cautious way. They seem to start having some kind of conversation.
“I don’t really know, hopefully, something good”, Mom answered. They talked for a little while, with daylight beginning to disappear, giving us a sense of dread, and making me more worried about what weird creature was going to show up. Eventually, the old man turned and pointed toward what I think is the northeast. They then shook hands and walked back to their respective vehicles. “What’s going on”, Mom asked as Dad got into the truck.
“Well, our new friend here invited us to dinner at his farm”, Dad replied.
“Does he have supplies?”
“Well, he says has supplies for us to make the journey.”
“Should we even trust him? We just met h-”
“Relax, he’s just an old man, living alone at his farm, feeding his cows. What could go wrong”, Dad countered. The old man then entered the truck that was running and drove slowly, expecting us to follow him.
“Alrighty then, but we have to be cautious”, Mom said, with her suspicions of the old man. We then followed the old truck along the dark, frozen road. It just feels like something is going to show up along the road, but nothing happened. Matt did eventually stop crying, but he is still upset about the Joe escape thing.
“Where are we going”, Matt lamented, with the prior series of events in mind.
“I guess somebody is offering us dinner”, I answered.
“Why can’t we just go home?”
“It’s only going to be a stop, like a hotel. After that, we go to our new home, I guess”, I said, taking another look at Matt and cradling to comfort him. “It’s going to be okay.” I stared out into the darkness. I looked to the sky from the window and I faintly saw something in the clear, dark sky, lit up by the waning moon. They were brilliant, green auroras that defy the bright moon, dancing across the sky like ribbons in the wind. The truck eventually took a right-hand turn into another road, with us following suit. I can see a bright, orange light emerging from a patch of tree. When we passed by, it seemed it was a house, at a farm, burning in a massive flame.
“I guess those people aren’t so, uh, lucky”, Dad said, taking a quick look at it before looking at the road. Passing by, we went on and continued to follow the old man’s truck. We passed onto another intersection until he turned into a driveway to what I believe to be his farm. Going into the driveway, I can see an old house, along with a dilapidated farm further away, barely visible by the headlights. The old man parked by the house, where there were a few other trucks there. We parked alongside the truck and we got out into the cold, near-silent night.
“Welcome to sanctuary, where all are welcome”, the old man bellowed. This is the first time I’ve heard his voice. Matt was the last to get out of the truck, slowly and clumsily climbing out of the truck.
“What’s your name”, my Mom politely asked the old man.
“Oh, I guess your husband didn’t tell ya. My name is Steven, but you can call me Steve”, the old man said, with some crackling in his voice. “I am very proud to host a dinner for you and your family”, he continued. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Oh, my name is Janice”, Mom replied, quite pleased at his politeness.
“Hello, Janice, and what are their names”, Steven asked, pointing to me and Matt.
“That’s my daughter Kate and my son Matt”, Dad said to Mom.
“Oh, what wonderful names for a couple of beautiful children you have”, Steve grinned. “Come, it is dangerous out here.” We followed him to the house, which looked like it had seen better days. He entered through the double-set door, the first a solid door and a screen door behind. Entering the house, it smelled like what you’d expect, old man. Looking onto the floor is made of glossy wood and walls with cracks, likely caused by the earthquake. It is dark in there, lit by candlelight from many candles, yet it’s fairly warm here. I don’t know why we went into the house, but Dad was right, Steve is just a lonely, old man. Matter of fact, there seems to be nothing wrong here, other than the cracks in the walls. “Sorry, the power went out. Had to resort to the candles. I knew my wife would come in handy”, Steve explained as he took his coat off. “Oh, supper will be ready right away. Had to use the fireplace to cook. Also, can you take your boots off?” We took our boots and set them aside. We went into what seemed to be a living room, with dusty old-style furniture.
“So, where do we sit”, Mom asked.
“Oh, well, follow me”, Steve commanded, leading us to the dining room, with a long, wooden table and six wooden chairs, along with their corresponding old-fashioned plates, glasses and cutlery, lit up in the candlelight. We noticed that everything on the table was covered in a thin veil of dust. “My apologies, the recent shocks dropped a bit of dust on the table”, he explained as he noticed us looking at the plates and moved into another room nearby. “Take your seats if you like.” We all settled onto the chairs, and blew off our plates of the dust settled there.
“When will we eat”, Matt impatiently said.
“Once Steve comes out with the food”, Mom answered. Matt sat there with a tired look on his face. Dad seemed to be in a better mood than before and it looked like he wanted to start a conversation.
“Hey, should we talk about something”, Dad asked. I then see Steve with a bowl and a silver plate.
“Here we go, may not be much, but at least it’ll fulfil the soul”, Steve said, smiling when he served us mashed potatoes and meatloaf. “So, shall we pray?” That came unexpectedly, as we are not too religious, but we were in his house and gave us shelter and food.
“Sure, we can do that”, Mom said and we all bowed our heads and put our hands together. Steve cleared his throat
“Thank you, Lord, for this good food to feed the soul in these hard times. I shall pray, in the name of the Lord and Jesus Christ, that these hard times shall be over, so we can get on with our lives. Amen.” We raised our heads and grabbed whatever food there was onto our plates. “Oh, there’s no gravy, so we have to deal with bare potaters and meatloaf.”
“Oh, not to worry. Thank you for the food”, Dad thanked Steve. We began to eat the food once we got it sorted.
“So, what brings you here”, Steve asked.
“Well, there is an evacuation order in effect for this area, so we had to go to Regina”, Dad explained, with Steve taking in every word. “So, we came from Strasbourg, we tried going south towards Regina, but we hit an obstacle in the way and we had to take another route, leading us here.”
“And we encountered a few odd things along the way”, Mom added.
“Huh, interesting. What do you guys think is going on”, Steve inquired.
“By the things we saw, we have no idea. Dinosaurs, devil dogs, hell pigs, the whole deal. I shouldn’t forget the earthquake. They told us a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake”, Dad clarified to Steve.
“Hmm… is that so”, Steve wondered. “Wonder what I think is happening? The Rapture is happening. Do you know how the Bible tells us of the end times? Good people sent to be with God and his kingdom, the rest here to suffer the Hell unleashed by Satan.” By this point, he was beginning to rant, but we couldn't stop it as we all began to feel tired and powerless. “So, the Devil will send his demons in the form of these illusions so that they can torment the sinners. It is happening, it is-” Steve manically continued as I drew towards blackness and his voice becoming less coherent. My vision is now all black.
I saw those same lights, but more rapidly than before. I then emerged onto the same clear sky, but something felt different. I can smell something in the air. I can smell what seems to be chemicals in the air. Looking down, I was terrified. Dark, grey rock in the shape of ropes and folds, similar to those I saw of lava flows on a volcano in pictures. This went on as far as the eye could see. I can see no tree this time, just the cooled lava everywhere. I then walked, feeling every bump and crag. I thought I walked forever until I heard a rumbling sound and woke up.
I am in total darkness. It is cold and it smells like cow manure. I tried to move my hand, but it seemed to be bonded behind my back by a rope. I tried to move my feet, but they were also bound by rope to the legs I tried to speak, only to realise my mouth was agape by a cloth in my mouth. I heard shuffling nearby but I could not see. It was then shone in light when Steve entered the door, holding a candle, revealing all of us in the same situation. I then can see what we are in. We are in that same wooden dilapidated barn we saw earlier and seems to be more damaged than the house, wood creaking can be heard.
“These sedatives are more effective than I thought. Maybe I should use them more often”, Steve smoothly explained, like he’s some kind of agent and began pacing. “Wonder why you are here? Well, I wondered the same thing to myself, why didn’t God take me to his heaven? When I first heard of the government telling us of those evacuation plans, I thought it was that, a leaking pipe. I began to notice things I couldn’t believe myself, at least at first. Earthquakes, weird creatures showing up, people disappearing, the whole spiel. I connected the dots. The Rapture is happening, for sure, but why me? Why was I the one left here on this Earth”, Steve calmly ranted, pacing around the barn, but it seemed to sound crazier and angrier the more he paced. “I thought I had lost my way. I’ve been unfaithful to God and his son. But, I realised that God always has a plan and he left me on this Earth to serve a purpose. I wondered what my purpose was until I had a moment.” He then stopped in place and calmed down. He turned to look at Mom with accusing yet crazed eyes.
“I’m supposed to keep the sinners here in line, to earn a place in God’s kingdom, or suffer in Hell. I know you are a sweet woman, Janice, but your treachery with Satan is over and I am going to do what’s right.” Mom then looked at all of us, with assuring eyes like that of an innocent yet caring mother we all know knew. I began crying and trying to speak through the cloth, but I was helpless to watch by. “Forgive me, Father, for what I am going to do.” He then pulled a knife from his pocket and plunged it into Mom’s neck with no mercy. I looked away once he did that, trembling, with tears pouring out and my vision glazed and I fell limp. I could see my brother tearing up, but he did not look away. I can hear Dad behind me, with his screams of agony and anger covered by the cloth. It felt like I was in slow motion, taking in every moment.
I then heard the chair, screeching as Steve dragged the chair containing Mom’s lifeless body towards the door, leaving behind a trail of blood. I couldn’t bear to see my mother like this. I shut my eyes very hard and hoped it would go away. The door then shut, leaving us alone with a candle, fearing what would come next. I stared at the candle, seeing it dance in the flames like a woman dancing in the darkness. Is this how it’ll end, I thought. End up dying to this sick man? My Mom was killed in front of me. I sobbed with that thought, then I began to think about the inevitable death of me. I hope there’s something after I die. Maybe I’ll see Mom again.
It was silent for a while, nearly no sound other than our moans. Dad seems to be fidgeting at the back of his chair, rocking it slowly. Looking past him, I shuddered at the glistening pool of blood, where Mom was last alive, could be my fate. I then see Dad release his arms from the back of the chair and remove the cloth from his mouth. He silently stood up and bent down to untie his legs from the chair legs. He then went to me and removed my cloth.
“H-h-how did you do that”, I silently wept, fearing that Steve would show up at the door and kill us all.
“My binding is loose. The old man probably took a liking to me”, Dad whispered. “I should remove your binds.” He untied them, releasing me, doing the same for Matt. “Now, we need to be quiet.” We then walked, quietly, along the painfully creaking wood in the near dark, following the blood trail, glistening in the candlelight. We cringed and dreaded each sound we made and watched the door in case it began to creak open. A few silent steps later, we made it to the door and we slowly opened it so as not to make any noise. What was revealed to us is nothing new, other than the blood trail continuing in the snow directing towards the back of the barn. “Okay, Kate, Matt, you guys run to the truck.”
“What about you”, I sobbed.
“Don’t worry about me”, Dad responded, giving me his keys and forcing them into my hand. “If I’m not back in a few minutes, leave. Don’t look back, take care of your brother, okay? I love you, no matter what happens.” He then kissed me on the head and ran to follow the blood trail. We quickly walked towards the black truck, stranded there for maybe hours. Getting closer, freedom is getting closer. When we got to a fair distance to the truck, I heard footsteps behind me and, the next thing I knew, I was knocked over to the ground into the hard snow on my face. A hand turned me over to give me a glimpse of a crazed Steve, his eyes wilder than before.
“Oh, yes, trying to escape”, he bragged. I looked at him, frozen in fear, like a deer in headlights and he caressed my face with his bloodied blade. “You do have a pretty face, but I’m afraid you are just one of Satan's creations, made to pull me to lust.” He then raised his knife in the air when a familiar side emerged, out of the blue.
Joe came and bit him in the arm that was holding the knife. Steve screamed in agony the moment he realised what happened. He shook Joe off and stood up to stand his ground. I stood up as Joe hissed and walked around the crazed being he wounded, not in fear but in aggressiveness. “Is this one of your pets, demon”, Steve screamed as Joe came in for another attack, but Steve countered that with a slash to the snout. Joe then ran away, whining, into the darkness. This sequence of events gave me the chance to enter the truck on the driver’s side. I had some trouble starting it, besides this is my first time driving a truck.
Steve menacelily walked towards the when Dad came barreling and tackled him to the ground. Dad was on top when he went limp. I finally put the keys in the engine turned it on and backed out, with memory serving me the instructions on such a vehicle. Steve pushed Dad’s body and stood up, but by that time, we left the farm.
“Turn back, we have to get Dad”, Matt cried, but I was very emotional, accepting what happened. I felt that, without my parents, I feel… useless.
“Dad’s dead”, I screamed at Matt and he began gagging uncontrollably in tears. I began to feel sorry for him. “Sorry, I, I don’t know.”
“It’s okay”, Matt sniffled. “I guess Mom and Dad are dead anyways.” It was silence for a few more minutes, tears welling in our eyes.
“Hey, our parents are in a better place”, I said, trying to make the situation positive.
“But we are stuck here, without them? Don’t we deserve to go to a better place?”
“Don’t say that”, I huffed and I paused for a bit. “I know we are in the, uh, right place now. Let me tell you something, once we get to Regina, I will take care of you, no matter what life throws at us.”
“What about Joe”, Matt asked.
“He’ll be fine. He probably found his girlfriend already.”
“Hey, don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“I, uh, I don’t have one. That I know of”, I spoke, bringing me back to Sam, remembering that she’s the only friend that I ever knew, and I left her. Without her, I felt alone, no one would ever relate. I began to tear up. “I don’t have any friends. I am alone,” I sobbed.
“What do you mean? I’m your brother!” I looked at Matt, and smiled, happy that he acknowledged that we were in this together.
“Thank you”, I thanked him. I slowly stopped on the road, just to hug Matt hard, crying my eyes out. We then heard what sounded like an elephant in front of us. We looked up to see a walking snow-covered brown fur wall with four pillar-like legs in front of us. Its curved tusks gleaned in the light and the eyes reflected in the light. The furry trunk waved around like a searching snake from a tree. We both knew what it was.
“Hey, look at that, a woolly mammoth”, Matt said, excitement running through him. At this point, we weren’t surprised.
“Yep, that is a woolly mammoth”, I added. The mammoth turned to us on the road, seemingly confused about where it was. It looked at our truck and seemed to growl, like an elephant. We are starting to realise this thing is becoming aggressive.
“Uh, should we move”, Matt asked. I remembered hearing something about standing your ground in case of an encounter with an elephant. I hoped it would work for a bigger, furrier version of one.
“No, we have to stand our ground.”
“But, it’ll attack u-”
“Trust me!” I then honked my horn and it backed up. It then rushed, then stopped, a mock charge. Eventually, it moved out of the road, disappearing into the darkness. We sighed in relief.
“That was close”, Matt sighed. I then continued to drive in the night, headlights leading the way. The road is bumpy, as noticed by every ditch and peak we hit, but surprisingly, Matt was fast asleep. I began to get comfortable driving and used to the road by that point. It was silent for a while until we hit a smaller intersection. That is when the truck shut down, completely and stopped. I tried the gas many times but with no effect. There is no light, nothing. It is near-darkness here, shone only by the moonlight.
“Shit”, I yelled, desperate to turn the truck on without much success. Matt woke up, confused.
“What happened”, he yawned.
“The truck turned itself off. I can’t get it back on”, I fretted and at that moment, Matt was just as panicked as I am.
“Why?”
“I-I don’t know. One moment, we were driving, another it just-”, I quavered, when I heard something rustle in the distance. We stood still, hoping whatever it was didn’t find us. I looked around, hoping to see something in the moonlight. I then see a long, walking animal. It looked like some sort of alligator at first, except for a dinosaur-like head. Once I strained my eyes to the darkness, my fear levels rose as I could see it walk on its hind limbs, with its forelimbs dangling nearly touching the ground.
It was wandering around on the road when I heard a near-crocodilian growl at Matt’s side of the truck. Another of those creatures appeared, seemingly looking into the window like a hungry bear, giving us a chance to see its scaly head. Its exposed alligator teeth gleaned in the light like knives, but more terrifying was the eye. Its serpentine pupil shone brilliantly in the light like eyes in the dark. It then ducked down, gave a hiss, and moved towards the other one. A few more showed up and formed a group.
“What should we do”, Matt asked. “Should we stay?” I looked around, hoping for another way to escape them without them noticing. I further strained my eyes and mentally mapped out the area. There is a cemetery on my right-hand side, a grain bin storage yard on my left and a series of trailers on the other side of the highway, which is ahead of us, from the storage area. There, I see a series of white, storage buildings, something we can go to and wait it out inside.
“Okay, so slowly open the door”, I instructed Matt. The click of the doors opening cringed us. We looked at the group, but there was no response from them. We then, as slowly as we could, opened the door and stepped out. Still no response. Matt then quietly ran to the other side, towards me. “Okay, we are going into the storage yard and go to the other entrance”, I said, pointing to the other right-hand corner. I wanted to get as far away from these things as possible before making a safe crossing. “Then, we cross the highway on the other side, run into the buildings and stay there for the night. Are you ready?”
“I guess”, he whispered, looking at me in fearful doubt.
“We are going to do this”, I whispered back. We then silently ran over, having to rely on our night-adapted eyes, to the corner, walking past the bins. We made it and nothing behind us so far. “We’re good so far.” We then crossed the road and noticed nothing. We noticed a tanker truck, leaking some sort of fluid across the road. I easily recognized it as fuel, based on its distinctive, sickly smell. I wouldn’t be worried about it if it weren’t for a collapsed light pole that is somehow still flickering with electricity near the area where the fuel would be flowing. We quickly avoided the fluid when I froze to see the group of the walking alligators, running towards us. “Run!” Matt tried to run, but one of those things appeared and clamped its jaws at the back of his neck. He yelped in pain and it took him down to the ground. “Matt”, I yelled, helplessly watching as the creature tore into him.
Matt reached out his arm before the others came to him, then a flash of fire came. At this point, I knew what happened, but I couldn’t even think before it exploded. It blew me towards the building, far away. I was knocked out for a few seconds before I regained consciousness, groaning in pain on the ice. I noticed something especially painful just below my chest. I reached towards the area with my hand. I pressed on it, more painful than ever and raised my hand, only to see blood, brightened by the fire. I realised I was wounded, maybe by shrapnel made by the explosion.
I looked toward where the truck was and all I saw was a blaze. Those things weren’t there, at least. I also noticed something else, too, there’s no Matt. I tried to look around for something, some sort of sign of my brother within the fire, but I saw none. I then wept, realising I had failed. I have failed to keep him safe. I have failed to give him a better life. I failed him as a sister. I could’ve done better. The thoughts poured in as tears glazed my eyes. At that moment, I failed to look around me.
I noticed a dark thing beside the blaze. I thought it was Matt, preparing to greet him back, even though I knew he couldn’t survive the explosion. The image became clearer and clearer as I noticed it was one of the walking crocs that, glazed by the fire, was coming towards me.
“Just kill me”, I screamed, preparing to painfully die to meet my maker. The creature was about to attack me when something large, silent as the wind, came charging and clamped down its massive jaws, filled with conical teeth on the hapless creature and raised it. The crocodile struggled before going limp with a crunch within its strong jaws. The big, dark and scaly monster that it is towered over me and is as long as a bus, possibly longer. Its large legs are a contradiction to its small arms that hide beneath its scarred, bulky body.
It turned to look at me with an oddly bird-like expression, revealing in the firelight numerous scars from battles I could never know and looked at me with its beady bird-like eyes, breathing out wisps from its nostrils like a dragon in the cool air. I recognized it as a creature I know too well, a T. Rex. I breathed heavily and sickly, looking at the thing, nearly expecting me to drop the body and go after me. Instead, it simply walked away, carrying its bloody prize with it, and steadily retreated into the darkness.
I then lay down in agonizing exhaustion on my back, thinking of the next step of action like I'm on a suicide mission I would never come back from. I looked in the direction of the graveyard and had one thought. I guess I am dying. a graveyard will do. I struggled to stand up, noticing my blood-soaked clothes and felt a broken left leg. I grasped my wound, limping step by step and enduring the sharp pain while shaking in the cold. Every step I took, I remembered all the memories, good or bad, that I had with my parents. My brother. My friends. My family. I eventually reached the cemetery and slouched at a tree.
“Guess I’m joining you, guys”, I said, speaking to the snow-covered gravestones, only to hear something. A familiar sound of chirping emerged and, lit by the blaze, it was a sight I can hope for. “Joe, what are you doing here”, I depressingly cheered as Joe went to me and curled up in my lap as if he were a cat. I noticed the new-found scar he had on his little snout, but I paid no mind as I petted him. “I guess you came back. Thank you so much for what you did”, I thanked him, not expecting such a loyal creature would be with me, comforting me, to the end, like what my mother used to do when I was a newborn. I heard another noise, this time a deep rumble.
I thought it was another earthquake coming, but it got louder the closer it got to me, becoming more animalistic only felt small vibrations I barely felt. Joe stayed put, oddly enough, as T. Rex, different from the first one, came. It walked towards us until it stopped short of us. It began to produce a low-pitched, bird-like purring, attracting Joe. I realised something, that this T. Rex is Joe’s parent. He joined the rest like him, whom they showed up and all chirped around.
The grown Rex then brought its snout closer to me, not to kill me, but to look at me. It did not reveal its teeth and was still purring. I put my hand out and its nose came close to it. It rubbed it against my hand and started to pet its cold, scaly skin as it breathed through its nose and put it on my chest. I rested my head on it before it pulled away. It gave out a hiss, but I knew it wasn’t that of a threat, but more of a thank you for bringing its small, sometimes immature, child home.
That gave me relief, as it felt like I at least did something for once. They walked away, along with Joe, towards the darkness amongst the gravestones in the cemetery. I glimpsed one last desperate look at Joe before walking beside his parent. I looked up at the sky and I could see all the stars, twinkling, and the dancing green auroras. I began to feel limp and felt the cold embrace of death coming over me, tears pouring out of my eyes. The sky then grew brighter and brighter, the stars faded into the light and I could see my family welcoming me to a new home. It then slowly went black, darker than a cave.
You would think this is the end of me. It wasn’t, or else I wouldn’t be writing this right now. I eventually woke up in a hospital in Regina. I was told I was rescued by a team that transported me while I was in a coma. The doctors said I was very lucky to be alive, as the shrapnel narrowly avoided my vital organs. After that, I was adopted into a new family, but I was only with them for a couple of years before finding a new job and moving out.
As for Sam, I don’t know what happened to her. I would like to think she is safe, somewhere else. As for my family, I think of them all the time. I was in a depressive period right after that. Eventually, over the years, I accepted that they were gone and went to a better place. For Joe, I would like to think he is all grown up, like his parents, and becoming the king of the jungle. I hope we meet again.
As for the evacuated area, it wasn’t some pipeline rupture that caused an evaluation, but an anomaly, with the exact reason not known. There are excuses for the claims of weird stuff going on in there, from disease to chemicals, to eventually a previously unknown geological event, but I saw through it all.
You may ask how, it's because I've been there. Take it or leave it, this is the story I have. As the decade came by, cover-ups were made to hide it, even walls were put around it. Since the incident, the exclusion zone grew from a mere 80 kilometers in diameter to 460 kilometers in diameter, emptying entire cities of the likes of Regina and Saskatoon. I had to move to North Battleford, by the recommendation from the same government covering it up, making me think that time will tell before the floodgates of truth open.
The anomaly didn’t have a name initially, however, over the years, everyone agreed on one name in particular: The Saskatchewan Anomaly.
2024.05.14 04:23 throwguy97531 I'm a genuinely horrible person and I think it's time to end it (18M)
TW: Suicide, Mental Illness, SA, Porn Addiction, Abuse, Pedophilic Thoughts.
Hi, this post is going to be insanely long post as I am gonna go over a lot of things in detail throughout my life. I am going to premise this with a very important disclaimer: I am not looking to be the victim. I am not trying and do not want to make you feel bad for me. Things I saw will end up sounding like attention-seeking and victim mentality, but please know that no matter how much it sounds like that, that is not my intention. I'm basically going to go through my entire life story, so buckle up.
We'll start at the beginning of my life in 2005. I'm born and have an older sister, who is still my only blood sibling. At 3 years old I experience my first traumatic events that I can remember. I start hiding in the bathroom whenever my parents fight, and after a fight, I try lightening the mood by dancing in a goofy manner, but I end up falling and slashing a big hole in my knee and have to go to the hospital. At 4 years old my parents get divorced, and my dad moves in with his girlfriend. I vaguely remember crying as he took his last suitcase out the door. I also start pre school at this time, and my parents start realizing I have mental issues. I get tested and come up with ADHD and autism. I hate loud noises, get overstimulated, hate fire, and can be very irritable. At 5 I do my second year of pre school, because my parents feel I wasn't socially ready. I did competitive cherr with my sister which was fun, except for a mean teammate and an unsupportive father. At 6 I start kindergarten, and have more traumatic events. I doodle on my paper and get yelled at by my very menacing teacher, which just stuck with me for some reason as I am very sensitive to arguments and such. I start having my first memories of being abused by my mom. She wasn't beating me but she would slap me, grab me, push me, and she threw my sister down the hall one time. At 7, I have the same types of memories, but good ones too. My sister starts getting in on the abuse and hitting me too. Her and mom start fighting all the time. And this is where my first sign of real issues shows up. My aunt babysat me after school every wednesday whike my parents worked their jobs. I was scrolling on my old chunky laptop and came across it. Gay porn. It was two men on a bed doing some sort of act. Im confused but cant stop watching. My aunt eventually comes in and puts an end to it, berating me. But I start getting worse. I keep looking it up on my tablet and getting caught by my dad and mom, and even get caught looking up how to end myself. I get the same talk that it wasn't good or whatever. And one time, I even tried getting my 2 year old nephew to "lick it" because I didnt think there was anything wrong with that. The next few years, the same trends become increasingly worse, and my parents also gave up trying to get me to eat healthy because of my picky eating habits due to the autism. I became overweight and no longer did any sports. I have a few more traumatic memories of my mom hitting me or destroying my stuff and making me clean it up. My porn addiction becomes worse. I start getting exposed to things like incest and beastiality. I also start having my first experiences with pedophiles. I was taught by another kid how to masturbate on xbox. And got into a party with someone else. They were atleast in their mid to late teens and possible older. They convinced me to teach them how to masturbate aswell. My addiction got worse and I would masturbate multiple timed a day at a very young age. I started hiding things from everyone. I started actually being attracted to the incest porn I was seeing so often and got into the taboo of it. As I got older I started fighting with myself, begging myself to fix my issues before it became to late, but I didn't listen. I started hiding my porn addiction really well and kept letting myself get groomed. I would show myself to pedos on omegle because I thought it felt good to get the attention. A 16 year old told my 12 year old self to send a booty pic, and I did, but blocked him immediately after. When I got into 7th grade I also started getting corrupted by public porn, and started masturbating at school. I was being bullied for my weight, and being smelly by that point, and was just so fucked up and never got help. If I ever talked to someone, I'd just lie and water down so everyone would think I was fine. In 8th grade I got bullied really bad, but covid ended that early luckily. I never masturbated in class again after this. This is where it gets worse, again. I become so deprived of human contact and addicted to sex, that I start sneaking videos of my father in the bathroom after his showers. To note, I don't have an amazing relationship with him. He was always very intimidating and bad at controlling his temper. Never good at having conversations either, so I've since closed myself off to him. I kept taking pictures of him, and eventually, started sneaking pictures of people I found either attractive, or even people that didn't repulse me. This included strangers, classmates, teachers, etc. I started really internally fighting with myself at this point. I hated myself. Who I had become. I tried and tried to make myself stop and become healthier, working out, watching else porn, trying to delete pictures I took of others, but to no avail. I eventually on rare occasions, masturbated to beastiality porn. I always felt so disgusted before, during, and after. These always felt like intrusive thoughts that I was acting on, but I didn't know that was actually the case until much later. I also starting convincing my grandpa to show me what it "felt like" as a 15 year old, until at 17 in 2023, he eventually coerced me into doing it to him, which I can't tell if it's SA or a taste of my own medicine, since I was a minor. I'm gonna go back to 2022. My sister's husband, who I consider my only brother, committed suicide. I was devastated. All i ever wanted was a brother, but I decided it wasnt meant to be. A few months later, I saw a cute guy at a local fair near my house, and feel deeply in love. I didn't masturbate or even look at porn for an entire week. I could not think of him sexually at all. Until eventually, the effect wore out. I started becoming addicted again, and also became to overbearing to the guy I was in love with because I texted him too much. He was 28 and I was 17, and he had no idea I actually liked him. This crushed me too, and the school year started soon after. I started imagining him and his friends withbme wherever I went and stalked his page constantly. I couldn't stop thinking about him. Later on in thar school year, I fucked up with both of the friend groups I was in, and lost them all. The rest of the year passed by slowly, but it still ended up okay. Now onto this school year, my senior year. I come back to school and no matter what I do, I can't get myself to stop. And a few months into the year, I finally get caught. I get suspended and don't come back for a few days. I get bullied as expected and lay low. My mom takes my phone and deletes everything, and I eventually tell her most of what I've said here. I relapse occasionally and watch certain porn that I feel guilty about, or snap a pic of someone. Luckily, I finally deleted everything myself and never took a picture of someone or watched beastiality again, and will continue that path. My current consensus is that I'm a classic case of a kid who never had a support system, which led me to making bad decisions, and just never stopped and got worse. I also now have been diagnosed with OCD, Anxiety, and depression. I was always big on recording and taking pictures of everything memorable, which contributed to this. I also have very intense intrusive thoughts which are still unmedicated. When I took that first picture of someone I thought was attractive, I felt disgusted with myself for months. But the thoughts got stronger and stronger, and I did it again to make them go away, until eventually they got more often and consistent. I myself don't want people to be uncomfortable. I hate people that do stuff like that, and I wouldn't wish the feeling on anybody. No matter how many times I tried to push the thoughts away, or stop what I was doing, I couldn't. I lost all self control. The good part of me wants to help people, make them feel safe, loved, and attended for, but that side lost the fight. My morals were completely washed away over the years as my thoughts worsened, and I kept doing what I could to appease them. I consider the thoughts another being inside of me. It's super powerful and no matter how much I try to push against it, it always wins eventually. I got prescribed meds and picked them up today to help with the thoughts, and I hope it works. I found out this is called Purity OCD, which is when you have intrusive thoughts, and eventually give in and act on them to get them to go away. I also have Brain Loop Syndrome, which is when you get into a bad behavior, and want nothing but out, and physically cannot do it. I also want to clarify again that I am not looking for sympathy. I'll take any questions or advice on where to go from here. I've been telling myself that I deserve to be tortured, raped, and killed, or to burn in hell if I end myself. Again, not for sympathy/victimization. People I've told about the situation in real life keep saying "well it's not like you committed a serious crime, lots of people are curious and many take pics but are afraid to admit it" but I feel like that doesn't make it any better?? It's still weird and wrong. But anyways, I'm open to any questions or comments about this, if you want to just comment "ky$" or "I hate you" I understand, it's totally valid. I just needed to say it, get some advice and answer questions. Have a good night ya'll.
Quick edit before the comments start coming in: Apologies for the long read btw. I also wanted to say if you're ever experiencing negative thoughts regarding anything I stated here, or have any issues in general, PLEASE SEEK HELP. Do not do what I did. More people will understand you than you believe. You are not as alone as you think. Please don't let it get to this point!! Ans also yes guys there is a few more little traumatic events or whatever sprinkled in there that are probably important but I think you guys get the gist.
submitted by throwguy97531 to confessions [link] [comments]
Hi, this post is going to be insanely long post as I am gonna go over a lot of things in detail throughout my life. I am going to premise this with a very important disclaimer: I am not looking to be the victim. I am not trying and do not want to make you feel bad for me. Things I saw will end up sounding like attention-seeking and victim mentality, but please know that no matter how much it sounds like that, that is not my intention. I'm basically going to go through my entire life story, so buckle up.
We'll start at the beginning of my life in 2005. I'm born and have an older sister, who is still my only blood sibling. At 3 years old I experience my first traumatic events that I can remember. I start hiding in the bathroom whenever my parents fight, and after a fight, I try lightening the mood by dancing in a goofy manner, but I end up falling and slashing a big hole in my knee and have to go to the hospital. At 4 years old my parents get divorced, and my dad moves in with his girlfriend. I vaguely remember crying as he took his last suitcase out the door. I also start pre school at this time, and my parents start realizing I have mental issues. I get tested and come up with ADHD and autism. I hate loud noises, get overstimulated, hate fire, and can be very irritable. At 5 I do my second year of pre school, because my parents feel I wasn't socially ready. I did competitive cherr with my sister which was fun, except for a mean teammate and an unsupportive father. At 6 I start kindergarten, and have more traumatic events. I doodle on my paper and get yelled at by my very menacing teacher, which just stuck with me for some reason as I am very sensitive to arguments and such. I start having my first memories of being abused by my mom. She wasn't beating me but she would slap me, grab me, push me, and she threw my sister down the hall one time. At 7, I have the same types of memories, but good ones too. My sister starts getting in on the abuse and hitting me too. Her and mom start fighting all the time. And this is where my first sign of real issues shows up. My aunt babysat me after school every wednesday whike my parents worked their jobs. I was scrolling on my old chunky laptop and came across it. Gay porn. It was two men on a bed doing some sort of act. Im confused but cant stop watching. My aunt eventually comes in and puts an end to it, berating me. But I start getting worse. I keep looking it up on my tablet and getting caught by my dad and mom, and even get caught looking up how to end myself. I get the same talk that it wasn't good or whatever. And one time, I even tried getting my 2 year old nephew to "lick it" because I didnt think there was anything wrong with that. The next few years, the same trends become increasingly worse, and my parents also gave up trying to get me to eat healthy because of my picky eating habits due to the autism. I became overweight and no longer did any sports. I have a few more traumatic memories of my mom hitting me or destroying my stuff and making me clean it up. My porn addiction becomes worse. I start getting exposed to things like incest and beastiality. I also start having my first experiences with pedophiles. I was taught by another kid how to masturbate on xbox. And got into a party with someone else. They were atleast in their mid to late teens and possible older. They convinced me to teach them how to masturbate aswell. My addiction got worse and I would masturbate multiple timed a day at a very young age. I started hiding things from everyone. I started actually being attracted to the incest porn I was seeing so often and got into the taboo of it. As I got older I started fighting with myself, begging myself to fix my issues before it became to late, but I didn't listen. I started hiding my porn addiction really well and kept letting myself get groomed. I would show myself to pedos on omegle because I thought it felt good to get the attention. A 16 year old told my 12 year old self to send a booty pic, and I did, but blocked him immediately after. When I got into 7th grade I also started getting corrupted by public porn, and started masturbating at school. I was being bullied for my weight, and being smelly by that point, and was just so fucked up and never got help. If I ever talked to someone, I'd just lie and water down so everyone would think I was fine. In 8th grade I got bullied really bad, but covid ended that early luckily. I never masturbated in class again after this. This is where it gets worse, again. I become so deprived of human contact and addicted to sex, that I start sneaking videos of my father in the bathroom after his showers. To note, I don't have an amazing relationship with him. He was always very intimidating and bad at controlling his temper. Never good at having conversations either, so I've since closed myself off to him. I kept taking pictures of him, and eventually, started sneaking pictures of people I found either attractive, or even people that didn't repulse me. This included strangers, classmates, teachers, etc. I started really internally fighting with myself at this point. I hated myself. Who I had become. I tried and tried to make myself stop and become healthier, working out, watching else porn, trying to delete pictures I took of others, but to no avail. I eventually on rare occasions, masturbated to beastiality porn. I always felt so disgusted before, during, and after. These always felt like intrusive thoughts that I was acting on, but I didn't know that was actually the case until much later. I also starting convincing my grandpa to show me what it "felt like" as a 15 year old, until at 17 in 2023, he eventually coerced me into doing it to him, which I can't tell if it's SA or a taste of my own medicine, since I was a minor. I'm gonna go back to 2022. My sister's husband, who I consider my only brother, committed suicide. I was devastated. All i ever wanted was a brother, but I decided it wasnt meant to be. A few months later, I saw a cute guy at a local fair near my house, and feel deeply in love. I didn't masturbate or even look at porn for an entire week. I could not think of him sexually at all. Until eventually, the effect wore out. I started becoming addicted again, and also became to overbearing to the guy I was in love with because I texted him too much. He was 28 and I was 17, and he had no idea I actually liked him. This crushed me too, and the school year started soon after. I started imagining him and his friends withbme wherever I went and stalked his page constantly. I couldn't stop thinking about him. Later on in thar school year, I fucked up with both of the friend groups I was in, and lost them all. The rest of the year passed by slowly, but it still ended up okay. Now onto this school year, my senior year. I come back to school and no matter what I do, I can't get myself to stop. And a few months into the year, I finally get caught. I get suspended and don't come back for a few days. I get bullied as expected and lay low. My mom takes my phone and deletes everything, and I eventually tell her most of what I've said here. I relapse occasionally and watch certain porn that I feel guilty about, or snap a pic of someone. Luckily, I finally deleted everything myself and never took a picture of someone or watched beastiality again, and will continue that path. My current consensus is that I'm a classic case of a kid who never had a support system, which led me to making bad decisions, and just never stopped and got worse. I also now have been diagnosed with OCD, Anxiety, and depression. I was always big on recording and taking pictures of everything memorable, which contributed to this. I also have very intense intrusive thoughts which are still unmedicated. When I took that first picture of someone I thought was attractive, I felt disgusted with myself for months. But the thoughts got stronger and stronger, and I did it again to make them go away, until eventually they got more often and consistent. I myself don't want people to be uncomfortable. I hate people that do stuff like that, and I wouldn't wish the feeling on anybody. No matter how many times I tried to push the thoughts away, or stop what I was doing, I couldn't. I lost all self control. The good part of me wants to help people, make them feel safe, loved, and attended for, but that side lost the fight. My morals were completely washed away over the years as my thoughts worsened, and I kept doing what I could to appease them. I consider the thoughts another being inside of me. It's super powerful and no matter how much I try to push against it, it always wins eventually. I got prescribed meds and picked them up today to help with the thoughts, and I hope it works. I found out this is called Purity OCD, which is when you have intrusive thoughts, and eventually give in and act on them to get them to go away. I also have Brain Loop Syndrome, which is when you get into a bad behavior, and want nothing but out, and physically cannot do it. I also want to clarify again that I am not looking for sympathy. I'll take any questions or advice on where to go from here. I've been telling myself that I deserve to be tortured, raped, and killed, or to burn in hell if I end myself. Again, not for sympathy/victimization. People I've told about the situation in real life keep saying "well it's not like you committed a serious crime, lots of people are curious and many take pics but are afraid to admit it" but I feel like that doesn't make it any better?? It's still weird and wrong. But anyways, I'm open to any questions or comments about this, if you want to just comment "ky$" or "I hate you" I understand, it's totally valid. I just needed to say it, get some advice and answer questions. Have a good night ya'll.
Quick edit before the comments start coming in: Apologies for the long read btw. I also wanted to say if you're ever experiencing negative thoughts regarding anything I stated here, or have any issues in general, PLEASE SEEK HELP. Do not do what I did. More people will understand you than you believe. You are not as alone as you think. Please don't let it get to this point!! Ans also yes guys there is a few more little traumatic events or whatever sprinkled in there that are probably important but I think you guys get the gist.
2024.05.14 04:14 rockrchick21 Rant. Planning a vow renewal and it seems like it's not going to happen.
This is a long post. I'm sorry, I just don't really know who to talk to about this.
My husband and I got married 9 years ago when we were fairly young (24 years old) and had no money and no place to live. My parents are poor and we knew that any wedding we had would have to be really simple and inexpensive.
I've always wanted a big wedding with all my family and friends there, I wanted to wear a black tulle ball gown, I wanted a sit down dinner with everyone and lots of music and dancing. I made so many concessions for our wedding because of budget and time.
We had planned to get married in July on a day that is really important to us, but nothing was working out. So we ended up changing our date to May of the same year because it seemed like the only way things were going to work out which meant that a bunch of people who'd RSVP'd were unable to come. Most of my husband's family wasn't able to be there which was a huge bummer, and some of my out of town family wasn't able to get time off work or change travel plans.
At the time we were engaged I was sleeping on the floor of my mom's room in a two bedroom apartment that we shared with my two brothers and my dad. There was not enough space for all of us, and I wasn't making enough money to move out on my own. My husband and I both come from very religious families so moving in together before marriage was out of the question. We knew we'd get married eventually so we figured why not now. That way I could get out of the cramped apartment. (Plus there was a lot of stress with my dad, and I was on my way out of my religion which was causing more contention at home). Which is why we moved the date up rather than back.
My mom and my aunts basically DIY'd our whole reception which was AMAZING. We had a short and sweet ceremony on the beach near where we live, and had a short open-house type reception at a community center near by. There was no dinner, no dancing, and it was only a couple of hours long.
I need to preface the rest of this by saying I'm suuuper grateful for the wedding we had! Our families put so much work and effort to make sure we had a nice celebration that was affordable. We had a really fun time celebrating and taking photos during and after the event. I have really fond memories of the day and I love looking through our pictures of the day and remembering how exciting and fun it was.
Now I need to explain where I'm coming from.
Even though the community center worked great for the type of reception we did, it just didn't look that nice and I was pretty bummed out that that's all we could afford.
The food consisted of appetizers and cake. We never ate any food because we were running around saying hi to everyone and thanking them for driving the 1.5 hours to the coast to celebrate with us. The only cake I ate was the tiny slice we cut and then was shoved in my face. We had bought 3 cakes for everyone to eat and the smallest one which was 8" was sent home with us because everyone thought we wanted it for our 1st anniversary. It was a spice cake which cream cheese frosting that we ordered because some of our family really loves spice cake. So it never got communicated that we didnt want to take the whole cake home, but that we wanted our guests to eat it.
The dress was an issue. Like I mentioned before, I really wanted a black tulle ballgown. Everyone one in my family hated the idea and said I would regret wearing black when I saw my wedding photos. (And the photos were the only thing we splurged on so I didn't want to regret those). They also said a ball gown wouldn't make sense for the beach so I should go with something else. My mom and dad wanted me to be modest so I tried to find a dress with short sleeves that would be comfortable to wear in 80° weather on the beach. I was really loving the off the shoulder and sleeveless dresses and at the time they had more details I was looking for. I hated white, and I wanted to go for ivory instead as a compromise but I was told that a bride shouldn't wear anything other than pure white. So I felt super stuck, and ended up feeling super confused and frustrated. I bought a $200 dress online that was pure white, but had tulle cap sleeves. Which was also a house disappointment because I had always wanted to go try on dresses with my mom and grandma and best friend. But because of the timing of the wedding, it wasn't possible and there was nothing we could afford in stores. The dress I bought ended up being too big in the bust and too tight in the hips so we took it for alterations. Seamstress was able to alter the bust so it fit properly, but the hips didn't have enough seam allowance to be taken out at all. So on the day of the wedding I couldn't even sit or go to the bathroom. I will say the dress did look really beautiful and I love my pictures, but everytime I think about it I'm just frustrated that I allowed so much control over what I wore. I wasn't comfortable in the dress or how I looked because I hate wearing whitr and the previously mentioned sitting/bathroom issues.
I had originally wanted my makeup done professionally by a woman I worked weddings with, but when we had to move our date up she had another wedding already booked. So instead I did some lessons with her and did my own makeup the day of.
My family knew about all of the concessions we were making for the wedding and everyone said that in the future we should do a re-do and throw the wedding we wanted originally.
So we planned to do this for our 10 year anniversary which will be next year.
Now, we're in the midst of planning. We've seen so many venues, I've gotten so many quotes for services, and everything is so expensive that my husband is scared off of doing the big wedding I wanted. We've had to cut our guest list, and we're back on track to DIYing a bunch of stuff. The other day we were talking and I felt the way I did when we were getting married originally. Like I'm making all of these concessions for other people and because of money. We've saved money for a while and if we threw the wedding we want, we'd blow through our savings. I'm just feeling frustrated and I don't want to wait another 5 or 10 years to do this. Prices will still be going up and I'm thinking we'll just never be in a place to afford the wedding I had envisioned.
I really wanted this re-do to be a celebration of our relationship as well as a thank you to our friends and family for the support and all the work they did for our wedding. I don't want to ask them for help because I just want them to enjoy the event and not stress. But I'm also feeling conflicted because I want to enjoy the event with my husband rather than running around to make sure things run smoothly. We can't afford a wedding coordinator, DJ, or catering staff, we'll be doing a lot of the work ourselves.
It's looking like we're back to engaged and cutting our guest list as well as DIYing decor and probably running the whole event.
My husband doesn't want to spend $10,000 on the event anymore which is what we had discussed and agreed on. But he also hasn't come up with a new budget and everytime I suggest a number he says no, or says nothing. So I feel stuck. I don't even know where to start looking for a venue. I don't think this is going to happen anymore and I'm feeling really upset. I feel stupid that I care so much about this dumb party, and I feel like an ungrateful brat even though my family hasn't said anything about it and they support the re-do.
I guess I'm just looking for comfort, or perspective. Do I need to reevaluate my feelings on this? Should I just let it go and put the money toward something else like investing or something? I have no idea..
submitted by rockrchick21 to weddingplanning [link] [comments]
My husband and I got married 9 years ago when we were fairly young (24 years old) and had no money and no place to live. My parents are poor and we knew that any wedding we had would have to be really simple and inexpensive.
I've always wanted a big wedding with all my family and friends there, I wanted to wear a black tulle ball gown, I wanted a sit down dinner with everyone and lots of music and dancing. I made so many concessions for our wedding because of budget and time.
We had planned to get married in July on a day that is really important to us, but nothing was working out. So we ended up changing our date to May of the same year because it seemed like the only way things were going to work out which meant that a bunch of people who'd RSVP'd were unable to come. Most of my husband's family wasn't able to be there which was a huge bummer, and some of my out of town family wasn't able to get time off work or change travel plans.
At the time we were engaged I was sleeping on the floor of my mom's room in a two bedroom apartment that we shared with my two brothers and my dad. There was not enough space for all of us, and I wasn't making enough money to move out on my own. My husband and I both come from very religious families so moving in together before marriage was out of the question. We knew we'd get married eventually so we figured why not now. That way I could get out of the cramped apartment. (Plus there was a lot of stress with my dad, and I was on my way out of my religion which was causing more contention at home). Which is why we moved the date up rather than back.
My mom and my aunts basically DIY'd our whole reception which was AMAZING. We had a short and sweet ceremony on the beach near where we live, and had a short open-house type reception at a community center near by. There was no dinner, no dancing, and it was only a couple of hours long.
I need to preface the rest of this by saying I'm suuuper grateful for the wedding we had! Our families put so much work and effort to make sure we had a nice celebration that was affordable. We had a really fun time celebrating and taking photos during and after the event. I have really fond memories of the day and I love looking through our pictures of the day and remembering how exciting and fun it was.
Now I need to explain where I'm coming from.
Even though the community center worked great for the type of reception we did, it just didn't look that nice and I was pretty bummed out that that's all we could afford.
The food consisted of appetizers and cake. We never ate any food because we were running around saying hi to everyone and thanking them for driving the 1.5 hours to the coast to celebrate with us. The only cake I ate was the tiny slice we cut and then was shoved in my face. We had bought 3 cakes for everyone to eat and the smallest one which was 8" was sent home with us because everyone thought we wanted it for our 1st anniversary. It was a spice cake which cream cheese frosting that we ordered because some of our family really loves spice cake. So it never got communicated that we didnt want to take the whole cake home, but that we wanted our guests to eat it.
The dress was an issue. Like I mentioned before, I really wanted a black tulle ballgown. Everyone one in my family hated the idea and said I would regret wearing black when I saw my wedding photos. (And the photos were the only thing we splurged on so I didn't want to regret those). They also said a ball gown wouldn't make sense for the beach so I should go with something else. My mom and dad wanted me to be modest so I tried to find a dress with short sleeves that would be comfortable to wear in 80° weather on the beach. I was really loving the off the shoulder and sleeveless dresses and at the time they had more details I was looking for. I hated white, and I wanted to go for ivory instead as a compromise but I was told that a bride shouldn't wear anything other than pure white. So I felt super stuck, and ended up feeling super confused and frustrated. I bought a $200 dress online that was pure white, but had tulle cap sleeves. Which was also a house disappointment because I had always wanted to go try on dresses with my mom and grandma and best friend. But because of the timing of the wedding, it wasn't possible and there was nothing we could afford in stores. The dress I bought ended up being too big in the bust and too tight in the hips so we took it for alterations. Seamstress was able to alter the bust so it fit properly, but the hips didn't have enough seam allowance to be taken out at all. So on the day of the wedding I couldn't even sit or go to the bathroom. I will say the dress did look really beautiful and I love my pictures, but everytime I think about it I'm just frustrated that I allowed so much control over what I wore. I wasn't comfortable in the dress or how I looked because I hate wearing whitr and the previously mentioned sitting/bathroom issues.
I had originally wanted my makeup done professionally by a woman I worked weddings with, but when we had to move our date up she had another wedding already booked. So instead I did some lessons with her and did my own makeup the day of.
My family knew about all of the concessions we were making for the wedding and everyone said that in the future we should do a re-do and throw the wedding we wanted originally.
So we planned to do this for our 10 year anniversary which will be next year.
Now, we're in the midst of planning. We've seen so many venues, I've gotten so many quotes for services, and everything is so expensive that my husband is scared off of doing the big wedding I wanted. We've had to cut our guest list, and we're back on track to DIYing a bunch of stuff. The other day we were talking and I felt the way I did when we were getting married originally. Like I'm making all of these concessions for other people and because of money. We've saved money for a while and if we threw the wedding we want, we'd blow through our savings. I'm just feeling frustrated and I don't want to wait another 5 or 10 years to do this. Prices will still be going up and I'm thinking we'll just never be in a place to afford the wedding I had envisioned.
I really wanted this re-do to be a celebration of our relationship as well as a thank you to our friends and family for the support and all the work they did for our wedding. I don't want to ask them for help because I just want them to enjoy the event and not stress. But I'm also feeling conflicted because I want to enjoy the event with my husband rather than running around to make sure things run smoothly. We can't afford a wedding coordinator, DJ, or catering staff, we'll be doing a lot of the work ourselves.
It's looking like we're back to engaged and cutting our guest list as well as DIYing decor and probably running the whole event.
My husband doesn't want to spend $10,000 on the event anymore which is what we had discussed and agreed on. But he also hasn't come up with a new budget and everytime I suggest a number he says no, or says nothing. So I feel stuck. I don't even know where to start looking for a venue. I don't think this is going to happen anymore and I'm feeling really upset. I feel stupid that I care so much about this dumb party, and I feel like an ungrateful brat even though my family hasn't said anything about it and they support the re-do.
I guess I'm just looking for comfort, or perspective. Do I need to reevaluate my feelings on this? Should I just let it go and put the money toward something else like investing or something? I have no idea..
2024.05.14 04:08 CoolMayapple Breakthrough!
I had a breakthrough and really want to share.
When I was a child, my N-mom would wake me up at night and whisper-yell at me. Usually it was for having a messy room. One of my earliest memories was her doing this to me at 3 years old and it lasted until I moved out to college. She would aggressively clean and go through my stuff and if I cried too loud, she would threaten to beat me ("give you something to cry about") if my dad woke up. I believed her for YEARS before I discovered it was just a threat. Now as an adult I realize it was so she could hide the abuse from him.
Fast forward to today. I'm 35 and am horrendously clutter. It got really bad over covid and I finally decided to hire an organizer who specializes in helping people with mental health issues to learn to organize.
She just attacked the mess and I saw in my minds eye my nmom, doing those same motions and going at the same speed. I had the physical reaction where my anxiety AND depression spiked, making me feel exhausted despite my heart pounding. But it never escalated to a flashback or a panic attack. I kept my shit together and stayed in the moment. It was like I could see the physical symptoms happening without letting them rule my reality.
Did my messiness improve overnight? Absolutely not. But it's one more step to turning her into a bad memory.
What has been your biggest breakthrough?
submitted by CoolMayapple to raisedbynarcissists [link] [comments]
When I was a child, my N-mom would wake me up at night and whisper-yell at me. Usually it was for having a messy room. One of my earliest memories was her doing this to me at 3 years old and it lasted until I moved out to college. She would aggressively clean and go through my stuff and if I cried too loud, she would threaten to beat me ("give you something to cry about") if my dad woke up. I believed her for YEARS before I discovered it was just a threat. Now as an adult I realize it was so she could hide the abuse from him.
Fast forward to today. I'm 35 and am horrendously clutter. It got really bad over covid and I finally decided to hire an organizer who specializes in helping people with mental health issues to learn to organize.
She just attacked the mess and I saw in my minds eye my nmom, doing those same motions and going at the same speed. I had the physical reaction where my anxiety AND depression spiked, making me feel exhausted despite my heart pounding. But it never escalated to a flashback or a panic attack. I kept my shit together and stayed in the moment. It was like I could see the physical symptoms happening without letting them rule my reality.
Did my messiness improve overnight? Absolutely not. But it's one more step to turning her into a bad memory.
What has been your biggest breakthrough?