Tattoo quotes about hard life struggles

I (25F) grew up with not much, raised by migrated grandparents. Lots of financial hardship but grateful to have lived in quiet neighborhoods with good public schools. Even our public housing is nice and I don't feel unsafe walking around because most people mind their business.
Being raised in a migrated household, I was fluent in another language. Here there is a high demand for people who speak my language and also a need for people of my ethnic background to be in a lot of career fields. Some fields I was interested in was nutrition and psychology. I saw the stigma of mental health and the need for educating my people about food & how helpful it is to eat right.
I have an eye condition in one eye so it limits me from things like nursing because they're so fast-paced. I can't (legally) drive either. I could be a rad tech but it's very competitive. Nutrition seemed perfect but they don't pay well until you become an RD which people say is not worth the time and money they sacrificed.
I have two more fields I would be happy to go into and it's accounting or learning software. I've done some coding practice recently. My interest came when I learned how to use a program in 8th grade to make a simple game where I make a ball bounce. Difficult career but I would still be up to learn even if it's really hard. I'm also motivated watching my older cousin make it in the field & he grew up like me.
On one hand, I might regret not helping people as I helped them all my life. On the other hand, I might also regret not making enough to be comfortable.

My egg cracked about six years ago. I had felt out-of-step with, uncomfortable with my masculinity for nearly as long as I can remember, including feeling a sense of horror over my changing body in puberty that I did not have the vocabulary for yet. I’d always been very passionate and vocal about queer rights, and as the conversation and civil rights struggle shifted more and more to trans issues, I kept seeing more and more of myself, my experiences, my feelings described in the stories and testimonials of trans folks.
At this time, around 2018, I was beginning to take some small baby steps toward exploring my gender identity and beginning some form of transition. However, soon after that, my life got really hectic and stressful, and I had to focus on other stuff. Just in that time period, I finished my dissertation, the pandemic happened, I moved cross-country multiple times, first to help with my dad’s end-of-life care and then to start a new job in a new city, and soon after that I decided the career I was in was not right for me.
The upshot of all this is that I met a wonderful woman in my new city, one who knows about my gender identity and is very supportive of whatever my journey ends up looking like. I’m in a small city that should be pretty good on queer protections, but it’s hard to be confident about that in America today.
Recently, it’s felt like the eggs cracked all over again. I could feel that desire, that need to do … something creeping back into my central focus, prodding for my attention. It's becoming all I can think about, and it's feeling closer and closer.
And last week, a conversation with my therapist helped me have a major, seismic shift in my thinking. We were talking about other things (my sense of imposter syndrome in grad school, specifically, which I think was at least partially my dysphoria), and our conversation made me see how hung up I get on labels and how that keeps me from engaging in the process behind those labels. In other words, that I get so bogged down in the questions that I don’t look for the answers.
And this really felt like it rearranged some of the puzzle pieces in my mind. One of the things that I had really struggled with, and had kept me from pursuing next steps, was feeling like my gender identity was still very TBD. I’m confident that I am not a cis man–that just leaves everything else. I definitely feel a pull toward at least experimenting with being a transwoman, but I also feel a pull in more non-binary / genderqueer directions, maybe even something like bigender.
And I think I’d let that lack of a definitive answer kept me from pursuing the steps that would help me get that answer. And I am increasingly aware of all this time I’ve been spending on therapy without addressing what is almost certainly the root cause of at least some of my mental health issues. But I also know how bad the political situation is right now; I worry that by trying to be my most authentic self, I could paint a target on my back and the backs of those I love.
Fuck, this would be so much easier if our existences weren’t so politicized. I just want to figure some shit out, not be the tip of the spear of the culture wars.
Anyway, I think my problem is one of scale. It’s all so daunting, and anytime I try to focus on the first steps, the kaleidoscoping wholeness of every little thing, every possible direction I could go, every possible good outcome, every possible bad outcome, just overwhelm me. This until-relatively-recently unnameable static in my mind has been the background radiation of my existence for almost four decades. Figuring out how to translate that in concrete steps, into the process I’ve been scared to start for so long, is hard. But all good things are, and I think it's time I start.

I KNOW everyone is allowed to complain about whatever they want, but I (F27) am sick of hearing my BF (29M) complain about money when he makes more than me, has over $100k in savings, and lives with his Mother.
He always tells me he is stressed about not having enough for retirement, about not being able to buy a house, etc. Yeah, probably neither one of us will be able to buy a house until someone dies and leaves us a lot of money - that's just the state of the world AND we live in one of the most expensive metro areas in the US. We both make decent money, and our salaries are similar (he makes slightly more than I) but he has been able to save a significant amount since he lived with his Mom since college. I moved when I was 18, and lived with an aunt for a year after a hard breakup that saw me out of a place to live while I simultaneously got laid off, but moved out once I was on my feet again.
Now, I am not judging him for living with his mom. I get that it makes financial sense. That's how he has been able to save well over what most people have at our age. What drives me BONKERS is that he complains about regular expenses (car repairs, medical bills) and acts like he is going to be destitute. In contrast, I have maybe $15k in savings pay rent, bills, all my own expenses, and don't complain when something pops up. Does it suck that I had to pay $1600 for an impromptu MRI a few months ago? Yes, but that's life. By contrast, he is having a break down because he has a small medical bill to pay and since he has waited 40 days its not a $15 late fee. It sucks but its only $65. It makes me feel like he is being SUCH A BABY. Like I have RENT, my dude, at the house we hang out at all weekend so we aren't fucking in the basement beneath your mom. Now he also has a $700 car repair he needs to pay for and a destination wedding he needs to go to which will be expensive and yes, sucks but either don't go or don't complain.
This also makes me worry that if he is this stressed over little things that he is never going to want to move out of his mother's house, despite complaining about living with her constantly. My lease is up for renewal this fall, and I live with my sister who plans on renewing, so I told him I was fine waiting another year since it would be crowded with the 3 of us in here. I'm now worried that the year will go by and my sister will move out and he just won't want to leave because even though he will be 30 and living in a musty basement, it "just makes sense."
Just frustrating. He is so kind and sweet and I really love him. We have been together for almost 2 years now - I feel like if we get to 3 and he won't move in, it might be over. I want a partner, not a weekend house guest.

Throwaway for pretty obvious reasons, and sorry in advance for the long rant...
A few months ago I lost my job that I really loved due to layoffs. Ever since then I have been applying with only email refusals (no interviews) or not hearing back at all. I have two scientific post-grad diplomas and about a decade of solid experience including mid-senior management. Yet, whatever I do, it seems like whatever I accomplished is worth nothing and I am back to square one. Tried everything, networking, recommendations, AI C.V.s, etc. and nothing is working.
I really busted my ass working since teenage years (like 18 years ago) just in the hopes of having a somewhat normal life, like a small home and a bit of security. Just a few years ago I was able to afford a small house, but only after prices doubled, and getting wrecked with increasing interest rates ever since then. Now I might have to face loosing it in the middle of a housing crisis, and it will be impossible to find a place to rent without a job given tenant competition.
Looking at many different industries it seems to be the same story, so no matter what I do, even trying to change careers is the same stupid brick wall. It's really frustrating since I have received nothing but praise in my current career, which ultimately leads me to feel extremely hopeless, because I can't think of anything more I could have done yet here we are again in the gutter despite everything.
Leading to today, I am considering just ending it, as it seems nothing I will do will ever cut it. No amount of work will ever make a difference, just born to lose, and I'm just refusing to lose everything. Made a quick plan with an oven bag and helium. Really can't stand losing everything after almost two decades of burnout inducing hard work. Always back to ******* square one with the only difference that I am getting older and the world keeps getting more and more competitive, expensive and challenging.
Sorry again for the long rant, and thank you if you actually red it...

Hi. Just had my first oncology appt today. Seems like I have stage 2a nodular sclerosis Hodgkin. Soon I’ll have to get a port put in so I can start chemo treatment. I’m turning 25 this weekend. I’m so scared and hurt. I feel like my summer is ruined. Just when I feel like I got my life back on track. I’m living with my amazing partner who I love, I’m finishing my second semester of college, about to have a milestone birthday, and was about to start a new job. Now I have to cancel my birthday party, I’m struggling to get my finals done for school, and I’ll have to call the new job and cancel. I just don’t know what to do.

We’ve talked a lot about the internal work that must be done to heal and recover from the horrors of narcissistic abuse. But what often gets left out is that the internal work, while essential, is only half of the new circle you are drawing for your life. The other half of the circle can only be drawn in by making positive external improvements to your life situation.
If your life is NOT measurably worse now, you are financially where you want to be, you are healthy and fit, your career & activities are fulfilling you with purpose, you have great friends, and you are working on actionable goals to keep growing, then this post is not for you. Great job and carry on!
If your life is measurably worse now than it was during the ‘relationship’, then I highly recommend you think about this message:
Measurable, Practical Realities of Life: What Would Actually Make Your Life Better?
If your measurable, practical realities of daily life- finances, career, health/fitness, friendships, actionable goals for the future- are worse off after leaving the relationship, you MUST take action to improve all of them by taking disciplined action consistently over time, IF you actually want to heal and recover fully.
Don’t be a perfectionist or think you can magically change it overnight. But do get on a real road to making the changes that will earn positive outcomes for yourself. Learning how to love yourself means wanting your life to go well and improve! I know it’s weird to have to say that, but people recovering from codependency really need to strengthen this muscle of self-interested action. It was so strange to notice in myself that I didn’t even know what I wanted when another person was not around telling me what I should want. It took a real change of locus to become sovereign over my own life, my own choices, and to learn what it is that I would want for myself whether anyone else is around or not!
This can start by simply allowing yourself to meditate on what it is that you DO want for your life. Not everyone’s values are the same, so there is no right or wrong answer, only YOUR answer. I just know that living in substandard, impoverished or stressful financial conditions, being unhealthy and sedentary, and not having an exciting plan for your life is a condition that will make recovery and transformation close to impossible. You can only do the best you can today without unnecessary pressure or expectation. Just start by coming up with a plan for the immediate future and exert your will to make shit happen for yourself! I mean it. It’s crucial.
You can do all of the internal work in the world to process your emotions, try to let go of anger and process your grief. You are worthy of love and respect today as you are, because you a human being with a good heart who has been treated terribly and victimized by evil behavior from someone else. But if your life objectively sucks, then I wouldn’t expect to feel better anytime soon.
Your sense of confidence, self-worth, and ability to create new successes, new relationships, new memories, and a new life that has nothing to do with your past cannot develop if you are staying stuck in a bad living situation. Be realistic and compassionate with yourself, and allow the time necessary to see some progress, but do get moving.
The Good News!
As hard as it is doing the internal work of grief, acceptance, processing anger, unwinding your own codependent patterns and family history, the good news is that you don’t need to have ‘finished’ those before you start going into the outside world and making positive changes for yourself.
You can look at your external work as a nice break from all of those heavy, sad emotions. Realize that a lot of that anger and heartbreak and sadness will sort itself out when your external life situation improves to a degree that you are now objectively BETTER OFF than you were during the relationship. The real key to healing and transformation is this combination of internal growth and external measurable success. They feed off each other in positive-reinforcement. All the little successes you pile up day-by-day start building your confidence back up, you sense of pride in work well done, your sense of worth and optimism about the future- all of it develops when you can see evidence of improvement.
So if you are finding it slow going and frustrating on the emotional front, if you’re having more trouble letting go of that person or that relationship than you expected, I know it sucks and it can improve with time and dedication to healing. But you really have nothing to lose by STILL choosing to better the other parts of your life right? How would it make it worse if you made more money so that your financial stress disappeared? How would it make it worse if you set some real world goals with your career, work, or passion projects that would improve your life and achieved them? How would it make it worse if you jumped into a disciplined fitness program of your choosing and got in the best shape of your life in the next year? I think you get my drift. If things are really sucking in your life, the best part of that is that you have not much to lose by saying FUCK IT! and just going for it in other areas.
Bottom Line
This does NOT mean that one should neglect the inner spiritual, emotional, and maturation work. Money, success, and the external trappings of life do not bring happiness on their own. But they DO matter greatly, so we need to not lie about that or become too ethereal about all of this. I’m arguing for a healthy balance that gives attention to the outer reality of your life so that you don’t get lost in never-ending therapy, an old tired story from the past, and overindulging in victimhood.
When you find a good balance between doing the internal therapeutic work and the external outer world success, you have the magic formula for transforming your life. This will help you become a new version of yourself more aligned with your inner truth, your values, your talents and gifts, so that you become someone who knows how to stand up for yourself and take action in pursuit of positive outcomes.
Letting go of anger is one of the most challenging parts I’ve found people have with the healing process. They can completely get over caring about the person, see the cold hard truth, and cut them off completely. But the anger and resentment really does burn people up inside, even years afterward, if they haven’t moved the needle on their own life. It is amazing how making your life better and succeeding in areas you used to fail in can make your anger seem unnecessary and irrelevant. Why? Because now you are stronger. You’ve built something admirable and successful for yourself and you don’t need anyone’s approval but your own and the support of those who truly care about you.
When you can sit back one day in the not-too-distant future and honestly say, ”By all measures, my life is leaps and bounds better today than it was back then,” you can tell me at that point how you are feeling emotionally and how much trouble you’re having moving forward.
Note: Just as people get themselves professional help for mental health/emotional issues, it can very wise to find a qualified person who can help you get going with your practical life issues if that is an area where you have struggled to pull it together. There are also tons of free information out there about this, so you can do your own research and find some good strategies.

I (f, 22) just wanted to vent somewhere people will actually understand. I’ve been dealing with GP for about 4 years now and finally got diagnosed last year, i had the botox injection in september and was in hospital for around a month, didn’t have to go back to a&e at all until the end of march where it all started happening again. for the first time in years i actually felt free and i was able to live as close to a normal life as i could, obviously being careful in what i ate and portion size but pretty much had freedom to eat what i wanted when i wanted and it just made me feel somewhat like a normal person.
since the end of march i’ve been in and out of hospital, i had another round of botox early april but that didn’t seem to help and the doctors couldn’t explain why, they said maybe it wasn’t injected in the right place or they didn’t use enough, they honestly were nearly as clueless as i was. in the end they decided to repeat the botox, that was just over a week ago. i was sent home the same day, had to go back to a&e later that evening, was sent home 2 days later and again was back in a&e that same evening. i’ve now been kept as an inpatient for a week and i’m still finding it hard to eat/drink without being sick and feeling really intense stomach pain, it gets to the point where i’m rolling around, crying and screaming in pain. doctors don’t seem to do much at all other than keep me on regular IV cyclizine and metoclopramide for sickness, subcutaneous morphine injections for the pain and a sliding scale to manage my T1DM.
when i was healthy for that october-march period i’d managed to gain some weight and was around 50kg, a week ago i was back to the godforsaken 46kg i seemed to always be stuck at before, and now i’ve gone down to 43kg which has been really disheartening and has taken a toll on my mental health. i felt i was doing so well, not only had i gained weight but also muscle, i was exercising more than i ever could have before and even walking 10-12km a day, now i can barely walk down the hall without feeling drained. i managed to get a job which i was doing quite well at and it was my first job, at 22, because i could never get hired before due to being so unreliable with my condition, luckily they understand what i have to deal with as it is my boyfriend’s family business.
i don’t know, everything is just making me feel really down and depressed and all i want is to be able to go home and go back to my life. staff at hospital also don’t help, the majority are nice but i still get comments from certain nurses who accuse me of faking to get medication or who complain when i’m crying as i’m “disturbing others” when there’s nothing i can do. i hate the way my body looks again, i hate the gap between my thighs and how i can see my ribs and bony shoulders. i hate my arms even more, all the bruises and needle marks from blood tests and IV drips, it makes me look like a junkie and i find myself crying because of it a lot.
i’ve been referred to another hospital for a consultation regarding a G-POEM but still haven’t heard from them yet. it’s just getting to the point where i’m feeling so hopeless and helpless. i’ve also been put back on anti depressants and taking diazepam regularly to help with the anxiety and distress it all causes.
at home i smoke weed, a decent amount, which helps with my appetite and also helps with my mental health struggles but obviously being in hospital i haven’t been able to smoke which makes everything so much worse as i don’t have anything to distract myself from what’s happening. some days smoking is the only thing that will get me to eat and keep me from having anxiety toward food.
my boyfriend (m, 29) and his family have been really supportive and they’re pretty much the only reason i haven’t spiraled into a full on mental health crisis, he visits nearly everyday and so does his mother who has been such a huge support for me as my own family aren’t there for me. i actually asked my mother if she would come visit me, i knew she wouldn’t, but i did it anyway, she came up with a bullshit excuse as to why she couldn’t and that nearly broke me because i was already feeling so low and on top of that i then felt rejected by my own mother, i should’ve known better but at that moment i just needed my mom. the one who came through for me that day was my boyfriend’s mom who came to see me as soon as she found out how upset i was, she held me, she let me cry and hugged me so tightly and reassured me i was loved and cared for. she’s truly been the mother i needed through this.
i know that i can be somewhat healthy and live almost normally, but right now things are just so bleak and i’m struggling to see a way out, all i want is to just be normal, it’s all i’ve wanted my entire life and it’s like no matter what i will never get that. i’ve had T1DM since i was 9 with 2 diabetes related comas under my belt by age 10, PTSD, depression, and anxiety since 12, and the GP since i was 18, it’s like i can’t catch a break. no one understands what it’s like but i keep getting told “i get it” or “i relate to that” and i know people are trying to make me feel better but to me it just comes across as diminishing what i’m going through and have been going through for so long. I was also recently told just how bad my GP is and i just couldn’t stop crying for hours, i was always told it was ‘severe’ but now i know that i have 96% retention after 4 hours and all it did was make me feel even more hopeless.
sorry for the long post, i just really don’t know where else to go where people might ACTUALLY understand what i’m going through

I’ve been grappling with something for a while now, and I feel like I need to get it off my chest. I’ve always been the type of person who strives for excellence in everything I do, especially when it comes to academics. However, lately, I’ve been facing a string of failures that have left me feeling completely mediocre.
It seems like no matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to excel in my studies. I’ve always been a diligent student, putting in hours of hard work and dedication, but despite my efforts, my grades continue to fall short of my expectations. It’s incredibly disheartening to watch my peers succeed while I struggle to keep up. I would excel in about two subjects in high school and pass the rest. Everyone around me called me intelligent, praised my successes and wouldn't mention my failure. Now it feels impossible to not put those in the spotlight.
What’s worse is that this constant cycle of failure has started to take a toll on my self-esteem. I can’t help but feel like I’m not good enough or that I’m just not cut out for academic success. It’s a vicious cycle of self-doubt and disappointment that’s been weighing me down.
I know I’m not alone in feeling this way, but it’s still tough to talk about. Everyone around me seems to have it all together, while I’m over here barely keeping my head above water. It’s hard not to compare myself to others and wonder what I’m doing wrong.

hi everyone!
so in the last two years alone, i’ve had multiple losses in my family. one loss has been super hard to deal with: my cousin taking his own life.
I am in therapy, and as a bookworm I feel like there’s books out there about this topic?
thank you!

Hello to whoever may see this. I’ve been lurking here for a few months reading posts throughout almost every day looking for comfort, ideas, things to look out for and be aware of, etc.. I’m glad you all are here and I think of you often as I read about your stories and experiences and grief and moments of laughter.
I will try to keep this brief. I’m sure it won’t be—I don’t know how to articulate the problem I’m having without background. For anyone who is up to reading this and responding, I thank you sincerely and deeply in advance.
I’ve had concerns about my mom’s brain function over the last several years. I got married in 2020 and moved out of state, where I began working and helping keep her afloat financially. We talked often and remained close.
I lost my job in August and my husband and I decided we’d better take the opportunity to move her here (as in, here into our house) as I wouldn’t be able to continue supporting her— also with the awareness that she needs more help than just covering bills. She’d lost a ton of weight, seemed overwhelmed and confused by doctors, was no longer receiving treatment for her long-term issues (narcolepsy with cataplexy and frequent melanoma skin cancer) etc.
She moved here in October. Evidently she had convinced herself that she was moving here to help me. We did manage to explain that is not the situation and she took it ok, but truly… things have been so hard since she moved here.
Initially we were arguing all the time. It was awful. Through that, we’ve done a zillion doctors appointments, tests, follow ups, etc. we have an Alzheimer’s diagnosis. She’s been on donepezil for a few months now. We are also talking with her doctor about getting her in the trial for Leqembi. She just had a PET scan on Tuesday.
Things have settled down… mostly, but I am not doing ok. I spend most of my time with her and much of it is quite nice. We can take care of household chores together, enjoy watching tv or movies, she comes with me to work (I work in a community arts center w/ a creative reuse aspect) and has carved a little niche for herself sorting and organizing all of the jewelry donations.
I don’t know that my mom cannot be left alone, but she makes some concerning and questionable choices. I wouldn’t feel confident leaving her alone for extended periods. She is still herself in lots of ways (and… not herself in all the ways that make me heartsick every day). My husband and I cook all the meals, and basically keep the ship afloat.
My mom was disabled in an accident when I was young and had been on SSDI until she turned 65 and it switched to regular SS. She has zero in savings and has continued to get herself into debt repeatedly (thankfully minimally in debt at this time).
I make effectively no money at my job now, it’s just something I love that makes my life slightly less miserable and lonely. When I lost my job last August, my husband and I lost half of our income. All this to say, we have zero flexible income.
The problem I am looking for feedback on is that my mom and I argue a lot. It’s not as explosive as things were at the beginning, but she’s sure that she like. ~Gets what’s going on~ and somehow I am always doing her wrong in any number of ways. We spend nearly all day every day together but I cannot get through a day without some kind of infraction. She has a question and she doesn’t like my answer so that means I am not the person I used to be (not literally, like. In a sarcastic mean way.) once in awhile I make plans to see a friend for lunch or I ask to go to work without her, and she acts slighted and nasty. We spend all day together and then I tell her I’d like a little time to myself—that’s a problem. I’m getting lunch with a friend next week, that’s a problem. etc.
When she gets upset with me, she sulks, she’s sarcastic, and she’s even left home a couple times without telling me or my husband where she is going (even though she knows that she doesn’t know how to get around). Basically she gets super defiant. And mean. And critical. I don’t know how to short circuit these interactions. I don’t know how to make space or time for myself in my life. I feel like my mom doesn’t like me anymore and I am putting everything on the line and she is unable to see it, so it’s a net loss. She used to be so supportive of me taking space and time for myself. I keep trying to do enough so that it will be ok when I need to do something else, but i am realizing that way of thinking isn’t serving me. Like, there may not be some magical right amount of giving that I can do to then be “allowed” to have any bit of my life left for me.
I’m 33 years old, struggling with fertility, I’m so sad about the state of my marriage, unable to see how I will be able to contribute meaningfully to our household beyond keeping my & my moms necks above water. my husband and I thought that by now we would have our own family, maybe another dog. That we would have this beautiful life complicated by anything other than this day to day reality that is crushing my fucking heart. And I know it’s just the beginning of this journey.
What can I do? My mom is not in a place where she can be distracted from issues. She stews over them. If I try to avoid a confrontation, she complains that I’ve never wanted to work things out and I’m unwilling to try. I know that I can’t reason with her. Any time things get escalated at all she says she knows she can’t live here — and like, ok! But guess what? There is no where else to go. All of our family is dead. There is no money. There is no where to go. If there was somewhere to go, I’d probably go there!
What can I do so that this household isn’t in so much turmoil all the time? I am heartbroken. I have always absolutely adored and admired my mom. I’m grieving so much, and I’m grieving that I cannot seem to make her feel ok. I don’t want her to be miserable and lonely. I didn’t know what I was in for when we moved her here, but I guess I thought that I would be able to provide some security and help her have a more fulfilling life at this stage. Now she will fight tooth and nail about her independence, as long as it doesn’t mean I get to do anything outside of this house and this relationship.
If anyone has read all of this, again. Thank you so much. Thanks for being here. Thank you for sharing space with me and my thoughts and my sadness.

29M newly married and struggling with sex. I think its mostly a mental block that I'm not sure how to work on. I used to watch porn before marriage but quit right after. My wife thinks I'm not attracted to her because sometimes when she's trying to get intimate I don't get a hard on. But there are times I have no issues with maintaining an erection so I know it's not ED. I visited my family doctor and he said he can't prescribe me ED meds because he thinks it's just a mental barrier and I need to improve my physical health which will improve my sex life. On a personal level I just feel like I have a lower libido than my wife so 3 times out of 5 even if she starts it, I don't feel like getting into it. But I do acknowledge that she has her needs so I do other things to finish her off. Not sure what to do or where to go. Any advice would be helpful.

TL;DR Husband [36] doesn’t help me [40F] with cleaning and pet care; he is damaging himself (and, by extension, me) financially; he’s possibly addicted to video games, and barely talks/spends time with me. Almost dead bedroom.
Note: obvious throwaway account
I’m embarrassed because I’ve seen this question posed in this sub So. Many. Times.
I broke this into sections to avoid a long wall of text and backstory. Please forgive any errors (spelling, grammar), I'm not in the mood for editing.
We've been together in June 2017, married in October 2022.

Cleaning: He is a slob. Even his dad admitted this to me. His parents almost never forced him to clean, so he doesn’t understand that maintaining a home is part of being an adult. I’m not a neat freak. I enjoy dedicating one day (usually a Saturday) to cleaning the house. This hasn’t been feasible in the last 1-2 years because I suffer from chronic back pain brought about by the breakdown of my SI joints, and it's gotten worse.
I have to force him to help me clean the house. Sometimes he does it on his own (i.e., dishes). But 98% of the time, it falls on my shoulders. Before you ask, I’ve done the thing where I put off cleaning as long as possible to force him to do it. It doesn’t work. We just get a mountain of dishes in the sink, a floor covered with dirty clothes, and a gross bathroom. I’ve tried teaching him how to do it, but sometimes I feel like he’s weaponizing incompetence.
When I ask him, “Hey, can you do XYZ today?” He “forgets.”
I can’t have any family or friends over because the house is always disgusting.

Pets: He barely helps with our pets. He’ll forget to feed and water them. I have to force him to help with the cat box. He is fine letting the poop and pee mount up until the whole house stinks. This is troublesome for me because of my chronic back pain. It makes changing the cat box upstairs difficult. That being said, when I do ask his help, he’s (usually) good about helping.

Gaming: I think he’s addicted to gaming. He gets home around 1045pm. He’ll ask me, “How are you doing?” and play with one of the dogs for a bit. Then he goes upstairs and plays games until 2am-3am in the morning. At this point, I’m asleep. On his days off, if I don’t plan for us to do something, he’ll sit up there all day long. If it’s not gaming, he’s chatting with his friends online; we barely talk. When we first moved in together, he was good about maintaining a healthy balance. Now, he doesn’t even try. Of course he claims that he doesn't have a problem.

Finances
He is financially unfaithful. To those who haven’t heard this, financial infidelity is when a person hides or downplays finances. Sometimes he just doesn’t pay bills. Granted, they’re his own bills, but it’s putting us in a really bad position financially. He recently got a registered letter from a company demanding that he pay them. They've even threatened to put a lien on the house.

Relationship: He puts in 120% at work, but less than 40% at home.
He won’t spend time with me unless I force him to. I ask if he could sit with me when he gets off from work and talk or have a chat on his days off. His response, “People actually do that? What are we going to talk about? I don’t just sit down and talk to people.”
I ask him if he wants to do , and his response is “meh.” Literally. Or he subtracts the “m,” and just says “eh.” He only spends time with me if “I” find us something to do, but only if it interests him. Even when he suggests things for us to do together, it’s only stuff he wants to do, such as gaming, going to the range, joining a DND group, and such. He has zero interest in what I have going on.
Even when we go out to eat, he’s always on his phone. This forces me to be on my phone because, otherwise, I’m just talking to a brick wall.
We have a relatively dead bedroom, but I can’t say it’s all his/my fault. We both take meds for mental health that makes it difficult. Also, sex with him has become painful. That being said, sometimes I wonder if it's me. Maybe he just doesn't want me anymore.

As a result, I’ve started fantasizing about moving out and being in my own apartment. Just me, dogs, and cat. A place I can keep cleaning, fill with all my stuff, and not have to worry about whether our house is gonna have a lien put on it. I honestly don’t know what to do.

So why don’t you just get divorced? (in no particular order)
1. His family has become my family. I have a barely tolerable relationship with my parents. My brother has his own family/life to deal with. I see his parents as my parents. Every holiday with them is magic. If we divorce, I’ll have no one.
2. Our house needs work before we can sell it and make any type of profit.
3. I mean, I do still love him. I just don’t like him.
4. I’m 40, which means it’ll be hard for me to find a relationship, especially since I don’t want kids.
I guess, what I'm asking is... should I hold out hope? I'm considering marriage counseling, but will it do any good? Will it even help if he won't even sit down and talk with me? Am I just wasting my time? I've been crying more than usual, and I don't think I can handle much more.

Hi everyone, Im about at the 30 day mark of knowing and treating lyme. I was sick for about 30 - 45 days prior getting progressivly worse. I started with 10 days of doxy and saw some relief of brain fog but not much. Then the doxy destroyed my throat but I landed in the hospital anyways with the inability to walk so I started IV rocephin for the nerve symptoms. I just completed 14 days through a pick line. and the hospital said enough see you later
Im seeing a lyme specialist and will be starting further antibiotics as well as IV infusions of vitamins. But as for symptoms treatment
Can anyone relate or make suggestions
My main issue is my throat always hurts, feels full difficult to swallow horse voice but its not the back of the throat its the neck area (Might be due to neck nerves)
Full body pain somtimes 10/10
Chest pressure and or tightness makes it hard to breath
Depression and anxiety - Because I cant do shit, my lifes falling apart, and I feel so terrible
Sleeping - Im almost scared to sleep because I wake up with night mares or wild scary symptom. I have been taking 2.5 MG valium for the last week which helps me fall asleep but like last night 2 am choking feeling coughing, chest tightness. Like Im dying.
Not sure how much more I an take. Im 37 years old, 6'2" 180 pounds was super healthy and had the world by the balls. Im now about to cancel/ postpone my wedding which is in 30 days. Self employed and havent worked in 2 months.

WIBTAH if I stop being friends with my BFF?
I'm wondering if we've drifted too far apart now. Or if I'm being a judgement B and shouldn't let these things get in the way of us being friends.
I've (mid 30s F) been BFF with my BFF (f)since we were 15. We're now in our mid thirties. We were extremely close friends. Like sisters. But we've always had different social personalities. Namely that I'm a social butterfly and love going out with people, hosting parties etc. My BFF was always more reserved and not confident around people. She got better at this as she got into her twenties. But still, she's not naturally a social butterfly. Which is fine. She was raised by very strict parents who never taught her to socialise, or even expressed that socializing with other people was a good thing. So I get it.
When she was late twenties, she had a bit of a traumatic experience with a full blown narcissist partner who she fell pregnant with within 3 months of knowing him. He was gone by the time the baby was a year old. But it was a traumatic experience. After this experience, she got REALLY into understanding narcs, spirituality, crystals, the universe, astrology and magic. She now markets herself as a psychic, as someone that gets downloads and vibrations from the universe which help her understand everything about you and your future, and the universes meaning.
But since she's found this interest (which she has turned into a business and solely relies on for income, along with govt benefits), she has changed in personality. I no longer feel a light presence around her. She's quite doom gloomy. She's become extremely unsocial, to the point where she doesn't "waste time" with people who can only do small talk with her instead of deep convos. She say she "doesn't like people".
In my mind, if you say you don't like people, it just looks like a YOU problem and not a THEM problem. IMO she's become extremely reclused and was never great with people. So for self preservation she says she "doesn't like people". I don't massively respect this - her life is extremely small and boring now. But if that's how she wants to live...
The main reasons I think we're drifting is because:

• I don't really understand how her brain works. She does this thing often: Where X happens in her life, this must mean YZ. Essentially, like a lot of people that believe in psychics, if ONE thing happens, she takes it as a sign and then moves forward with all her life decisions based on this one occurrence. It's illogical to me.
  
• she doesn't really think before she speaks. She just says whatever comes to her mind. Now this might just be a ME problem, but I really can't stand people that I can't trust the words of. I don't trust people who just Willy nilly say anything without thinking first. How can you be BFF with someone who's words you cant trust?
  
• she has a very alternative way of life. And again this could just be a ME problem. I was raised by a useless excuse of a mother. Hippy. Never worked. Ever. No money. Horrible to me and my siblings. And so my BFF way of life seems to be quite triggering for me. I've opted for a "normal life". Married, kids, dog etc. May seem boring but after a turbulent childhood, it's true happiness for me. Her way of life is just like my mother's. Living off government benefits in government accomodation, with no real job. Doesnt believe in western medicine until she's dying and the only thing that'll save her is western medicine (hypocritical). Wants to homeschool her poor child who will probably become a hermit like her. No real proper safe job. Having a baby after only knowing someone for 3 months. I just can't understand all of these life decisions.
  
• she kind of has an answer for everything. And gives off that she does no wrong. I have absolutely no issues with being wrong..I'm always happy to put my hands up if wrong. And because of this, I guess I expect other people around me to be able to do the same. I just don't understand why she's so averse to admitting that actually, yeah maybe I could do better there.
  

I also want to be clear I know I'm not perfect, I'm just human. And I'm conscious I've put a list of negative things about BFF here so it can seem quite biased against her. She is a lovely caring person. She's a very good person. I'd also be so sad to not have her in my life. I just don't understand her anymore, and feel like I can't express these concerns to her because like I said, she just doesn't admit any failings.
Please do tell me if IATAH. I have been struggling with this for a while. Idk if it's unfair of me to feel like she's not a good friend to me anymore. She's definitely a DEEP friend. But she's not a friend I can have fun with anymore.

During the course of my career as an alpha Sasquatch hunting, Dogman destroying, pussy crushing, luxury watch loving dude, I have run into this particular woman a few times. She is one part uber sensuality, and the other part deadly. Yes, I am speaking about the lovely, Anna Conda. I bring her up because I had another run-in with her last year.

Anna and I first joined forces, so to speak, when she acted as a go-between in my business deal with the Chinese to sell them bigfoot parts. See, I would hunt and kill the critters, cut them up, deliver the parts to Anna, who in turn gave me a suitcase containing unmarked American hundred-dollar bills, then she would transport the bigfoot parts to the Chinese. I was never really sure of what the sneaky-ass Chinese were doing with the body parts. All I knew for sure is that they are extracting certain materials from them, then synthesizing them with some other shit, creating some sort of drug. Whether it then becomes a bio-weapon or a dick stimulant, I do not know. Neither do I care. As long as they kept the hundies coming, I was good.

Now, while Anna is of Russian descent, she is a freelancer. She will work for any sick, skeevy motherfucker out there. She does not care. She has no conscience, at least not in the traditional sense as we understand it in western civilization. Today she is working for the Chinese, and tomorrow she may be working for Hamas. She is a slippery motherfucker.

So here is how it went down. At 11:32 p.m. on a Friday in September of last year I get a call on my cell phone. When the call came in I was balls deep into this hot little lass I picked up at the bus station a little earlier in the evening from an old swarthy chap named “Colorado Joe”. He wanted to sell me the girl. I was assured she was over 20 years old. I told him I needed to take her out for a test ride, which he agreed to.

So, there I was, balls deep in “Bing Bang Yun”, and my phone rings. Of course, I silence all incoming calls not in my contacts list. Thus, I knew that I must know the caller. In mid stroke I reached over to the nightstand to retrieve my cell and looked at it. It was a call from “Sergio”. I thought, “Oh shit…. I am going to have to cut the Oriental bang circus short.” When Sergio calls, I have to respond…immediately. He has the best blow on the east coast!!

“Hey, Serge! What’s up?”, I asked. All he said was, “Hooters. 2:00 a.m.”, then hung up. This was obviously the rendezvous for the transaction. Now, understand that Serge was not talking about the chicken wing restaurant. Hooters was code, in case the feds were listening in on the line. “Hooters” meant the titty bar out on Highway 69 called “The Plump Rump”. We had a communications code we used.

It was a long haul to the titty bar, so I needed to get moving. I had no time to return the girl to Colorado Joe, so I took her with me. I had her blow me on the way to the meeting with Sergio, telling her that her performance would make the difference on whether I save her from Joe or not. Of course, after she was done I tossed her out of my speeding truck and down, over the bridge, and into the Wendigo River below. I did not need any complications in my life right now.

I arrived at The Plump Rump at 2:00 a.m. on the dot. I saw the manager, Lou Skunt, sitting at the bar when I walked inside. I nodded. He walked over and said to me, “Use my office for the meeting The parties are already in there waiting for you.” I nodded and then headed to Lou’s office. Then it hit me: Lou said the “PARTIES” are already here. That is, parties, meaning more than one person. It was not just Sergio. It was 2 or more people! Lou was probably in for a cut of whatever was about to go down.

Something was bad fucked up!! I know for a fact that Sergio never brings anyone with him on a deal, at least not with me. He is too distrustful of people to do that, and too fucking mean to need protection. Something was wrong. I was just as likely to get whacked when I enter Lou’s office as anything else. I needed a moment to think things through.

I took a spot in front of one of the performance poles to watch a young, swarthy Mexican lass perform. My mind quickly strayed from the problem at hand to this brown chick’s ass and tits. She was not a great looking chick, but her body was smoking!! I quickly became aroused. I thought to myself, “Goddamn Asian bitches!! They are just like Chinese food – after 2 hours you are ready for some more!!”

When the little Mexican chick went on break I motioned her over to my table. “Hola Senior!!”, she said. I pulled out a clear plastic baggie of blow and dropped it on the table. Her eyes grew wide and slobber starting falling from her mouth. Blow is like catnip for strippers. Thus, she fell under my spell immediately.

The next thing I know, this brown girl was on my lap, dry humping me like a feral bitch dog in heat. I had to bang her. I NEEDED to see my wang penetrating her. Just then, someone taps my shoulder hard. I look up to see Lou standing over me. He bent down and said, “Did you forget about my office, asshole?!?!?!” I replied, “Damn, Lou!! You read my mind!!!” I arose, with the little Mexican bolted onto my mid-section, and hastily retreated to Lou’s office. I figured Lou would prefer me to stain this chick in private rather than out in the open.

The door to the office opened easily. The lights were on inside. In a lustful haze, I set the little Mexican chick on her back across Lou’s desk and started pumping the shit out of her, completely unaware of the others in the room with us. In a moment I heard someone call my name. I twist my neck around to see Sergio sitting on Lou’s jizz crusted couch. I think to myself, “Oh shit! I forgot about that shit!”

I figured I would just move forward with the deal as it was proposed to me. “Hey Serge! What ya got for me, dude?”, I asked. He replied, “I have a very special deal for you. I need, uh … yeah, ……Hey, Rod, you want to stop for a moment so we can talk?” I picked up the little tamale and laid her down onto Sergio’s lap as I continued to plow her. She stayed on my cock the whole time. I told Sergio, “No, man. I’m good! Lay it on me!” Slowly, Sergio lowered his face into his palm.

Then it happened. The voice cam from behind me, in the dark corner of Lou’s office. It was velvety yet hard as steel. “Rod. Went need to talk”, it said. Even though I did not stop pumping the little brown chick, a chill went down my spine when I heard those words. It was the thick timbre of the voice, I think, that alerted me.

I turned to look across the room. There, sitting in a red leather captains chair against the wall was the source of the sultry voice: Anna Conda.

I picked up the little taco yet again and turned her around so I could face Anna as I continued pumping her. At this point the Mexican girl was merely a masturbation toy I was using. I increased my pump so I could dump my load and get this over with. Then BAMM!!!, it was over. I removed the lass from my huge rod, after which her body crumpled to the floor. I did not know if she was dead or injured, or what had happened to her. But I did not care either, so I did not dwell on it.

I tried to compose myself the best I could, then walked over to stand before Anna so I could get to the bottom of all this business. “Well, well, well. Anna Conda. We meet again. Tell me, what brings you here, to my little neck of the woods?”

Anna replied, “Rod, put your dick away.” I looked down and, indeed, I had forgotten to stow my cock. Out of pure curtesy, I packed it away. Then I returned my attention to Anna. “Alright, Anna, what’s going on here?”

Anna launched into a startling tale about what brought her to me. As she spoke I became lost in her wanton beauty. She got up from her chair and walked about the room as she relayed her story, presumably to make it more dramatic and demonstrative. I got a full-on view of her body, and it was fantastic!!

She stands 5’10’’ and weighs 105 lbs. She is lithe. She was showing it off too, wearing a black, silk dress that landed just about her ankles. The top was low-cut, betraying just a bit of cleavage from her C-cup wineglass titties. She was not wearing a bra. Anna never wears a bra. Her nips were perfectly outlined through the silk. In fact, I think her nips were hard. It was probably something she did on purpose in an attempt to influence me. It was working.

Anna’s ass was perfect. It was not at all fat, but round enough not to be skinny. It was a fit figure skater’s ass. As she walked, I could see a tiny bit of jiggle emanating from her ass flesh, and then reverberated in the silky black dress she wore. My cock began growing hard again.

Her face was beautiful. Think Scarlett Johanson and Phoebe Cates rolled into one. But any sweetness this may evoke is quickly dispelled by Anna’s throaty voice with its thick Russian accent. I have known Anna for 20 years. Yet, she still does not look a day over 25. Jesus Christ!!! If ever there was a chick to die for ….. If I was one to delve into the belief of the paranormal, then I may conclude that Anna made a deal with the devil. But, I am not such a person.
And literally, Anna Conda is a chick to die for. She is deadly as fuck. She will kill you in a split second without a thought just because she does not like the shirt you are wearing. She can do it too. She is always armed and she knows how to use her weapons. Moreover, she is a total psychopath. This makes her doubly dangerous.

Anna and I have always gotten along for the most part. Like Anna, the dollar is my primary motivating factor. Such a mindset allows for understanding and predictability among people, which are elements that are sorely missing in many business dealings today that go on in the color of darkness.

Suddenly, Anna snapped me out of my thoughts. “Here’s your gun, Rod. Now let’s get started”, said Anna. She and Sergio were halfway through the door exiting Lou’s office when I said, “Hey, wait a damned minute!!! What are you talking about?!?”

They both stopped, and Anna walked back in and looked me in the eyes, saying “The plan, Rod. Let’s get on with the plan.” A little embarrassed, I sheepishly asked, “What plan?” Anna folded her arms and looked cross at me. After a moment to allow me to simmer in my shame, she asked, “You were not paying attention, were you, Rod?” I shook my head and looked down.

I heard a hammer cock. I jerked my head back up to find myself staring down the barrel of a pistol pointed at my head that Anna was holding. I protested, “Look, it is not my fucking fault!! Put that fucking gun down!!!” I continued, “You were distracting me with …. Well.. you know, how you are dressed, and that hot, sultry voice…. You know?”

“So, instead of paying attention to the plan, you chose to eye-rape me. Is that what I am to understand your position is, Rod?”, she asked. Knowing that my life was on the line, I said, “Anna, look, you know I am horny to a fault. Then you come in here, swinging them tits around, wearing that silk dress showing off the crack of your ass…. WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU EXPECT TO HAPPENED?”

Anna lowered her gun. She knew that my explanation of being a total cocksman was truth. “Let’s go”, Anna curtly said. I obeyed.

Anna explained the plan to me again on the drive from The Plump Rump. She made me wear a blindfold so that I would not get horny during her explanation. Here is how it went:

Anna Conda was now working for the Russians. It seems that Putin caught wind of the Sasquatch project that the Chinese were working on. He also knew that the American government have been fucking with sasquatch for decades. Thus, he was very concerned about the existence of a bigfoot gap. He ordered the acquisition of a Sasquatch specimen immediately.

Moreover, said specimen must be prime. It needed to be the biggest, baddest sasquatch of them all – a true alpha – so as to speed things along. Putin did not want some weird shit-creature, is-it-a-sasquatch-or-is-it-a-dogman, kind of monstrosity. He wanted purebred, badass sasquatchery, and preferably from the American Pacific northwest.

Anna got in on it because she sold the intel to Putin about China’s Sasquatch operation. She then told Putin she could produce sasquatch corpses for him. She told him she had a contact (i.e., me). Thus, with Putin’s blessing and promises of riches to come, Anna set out to America to find me.

Now, here is where things got a bit squirrely. See, I agreed to procure some more dead sasquatch. I have no problem with killing sasquatch because, in my opinion, they are an abomination on this Earth. I kind of feel like I am doing God’s work by wiping out as many of them as I can. And given all the not-so-Godly stuff I have done, I feel like killing Sasquatch kind of offsets that to some degree.

But Anna, she was stuck on Putin’s instruction that she must supply him with apex Sasquatch. So she did not want to take my advice of heading to the Pacific Northwest or Alaska. Instead, Anna claimed to have pinpointed the whereabouts of a particularly gruesome sasquatch beast that she KNEW would win her a fortune from Putin if she brought it to him.

“So, where is this beast?”, I asked. Anna replied “Martha’s Vineyard”. I paused. Then I asked her to repeat herself. It turns out that I was not mistaken about what Anna had said. I continued, “Uh, Anna, there are no sasquatch on Martha’s Vineyard, just a lot of wealth New Englander schmucks.”

Anna looked at me and told me I was wrong. Then she decided to attempt to taunt me. “Oh, Rod, mighty slayer of Bigfoot! Yet, you fail to take notice of where the biggest, most foul and rotten beast of them all makes its home. Jesus, Rod!! What kind of bigfoot hunter are you, anyway?” Anna then spit at my feet and wondered aloud whether she even needs me for this job.

I decided that I needed to straighten out the hierarchy here in order for this here deal to move forward. I said, “Well, Anna, feel free to truck on over to Old Whitey Beach and battle that beast. But, if there is a big old mangy sasquatch lurking around over there, then it is probably a fucking Nazi-Squatch. You know, those fuckers out there hate the Jews.”

The work “Nazi” visibly shook Anna. Her great grandfather died defending Leningrad. Her entire family there died of either starvation or cannibalism during Hitler’s siege during Operation Barbarossa. Anna despised Nazis. But she feared them too. After landing that punch, I decided to push my luck.

“Now, I am still willing to help you catch this here Nazi-Squatch, but you have to do something for me”, I said. Now Anna’s eyes were on me, and they were narrowing. I continued, “I want you to get bare assed naked and pleasure yourself while I stand over you and jack it.” Anna stared at me silently for a long moment. Then she replied.

“After the job is done, and you can get none of your … fluids… on me”, she said. I shook my head and countered, “Now, and I will ‘try’ to not get my spunk on you.”

However, Anna then turned the tables on me. In fact, she picked up the table and bashed my head in with it. She looked me in my eyes, then matter-of-factly said, “You get the beast, and your prize shall be a night with me, anything goes, darling.” Well, since this caused all of the blood to immediately drain from my brain, I had a lapse in judgment. “DEAL!!”, I said. Then we shook on it.

“OK, tell me more about this supposed monster sasquatch on Martha’s Vineyard”, I said. I still was not ready to believe there was a monster out there. “I show you photo”, said Anna. She took out her phone, scrolled to find the photo, then handed the phone to me. “There. Sasquatch”, she said.

I stared at the photo and remained silent. After a long moment, I turned the phone so that Anna could see the photo and asked, “Uh, Anna, is THIS what you intended to show me?” She replied. “Yes! There…Sasquatch! The biggest, grossest monster around.”

Now, I could not argue with Anna that the image on her phone is a big, gross monster. Hell, it could actually be a sasquatch, and THE UBER sasquatch. It is most certainly the grossest thing on Martha’s Vinyard. But I somehow do not think this is what Putin is expecting.

I turned to Anna and said, “Anna, this is a photo of Michelle Obama. I know it looks vile, and has a huge, hulking body with large appendages where a woman should not have them. But, sweatheart, that ain’t no sasquatch. That’s a big, hairy Chicago street negro.”

Anna did not believe me at first. She was hard in her conviction that Obama was a sasquatch. “I have seen the Sasquatch beast you deliver to me for China. This … Michelle Obama …. It is big, and hairy, and ugly like the sasquatch beast, but worse.”

When the truth finally set it, I could see that it had kind of broken down poor Anna, if only just a bit. I put my arm around Anna and told her, “Look, Michelle O fooled you. Hell, she and her Hamas Hubby fooled millions of Americans, twice! At least you saw Michelle for what she is, to wit: a big, gross sasquatch, and NOT some kind a retarded leftist messiah.”

After that, things took a rather dark turn. “What if we still take her to Putin? We can make deal; sell her to Putin!!” At this point I held up my hands and said, “I’m out”, then turned and walked away. Anna followed, trying to get me to stay. At this point, I could tell that Anna was coming undone a little.

See, she had to produce for Putin. There is no telling what kind of secret deal she actually had with him. She had to deliver a big old mangy Obama …. Er, uh, I mean … Sasquatch, to Putin.

“Ok, Rod, we do your plan. We go out west to kill bigfoot. Huge, monster bigfoot. she said. I turned and looked Anna in her eyes and said the following: First, we bang for 48 hours straight, right now, so I can get my fill of you. Second, you pay me $10,000.00 cash upfront. Third, upon delivery of the dead bigfoot, you pay me $1 million immediately.”

Anna agreed to everything, but noted that at the present time it was her “time of the month”. I grimaced, as I will absolutely not go there (and she knows that). “Fine, next week we bang”, I said. She pointed out that I would be in the woods next week hunting sasquatch. “Fine, once I come out of the woods, then we bang – 48 hours straight”, I said. “Of course, darling!”, she agreed.

Well, it took several days to set up the hunt, but it finally happened. I was in Washington state at high elevation based on intel I has acquired that indicated that there was a monstrous 15’ tall sasquatch on the mountain range that had been murdering and eating hunters and hikers. After 3 months in these mountains without a trace of the creature I began to lose hope, thinking that I probably got some bad intel, or bad coordinates.

I got my satellite phone out to call for an extraction. Winter was setting in fast, and if I did not get off this mountain soon, then I would freeze and/or starve to death. Unfortunately, my contact did not answer. I tried for 2 days. No answer. I had been fucked. I wondered what had happened back in civilization that caused me to be abandoned like this. I resolved that I would get off that mountain and get to the bottom of this shit. There would be hell to pay for this betrayal!!’

I was able to get in touch with contacts from back home. I got old Billy Ray from Ellijay and Rattler on the phone and got them to come out here to Washington State to extract me. Rattler use to fly helicopters in the Army. He has an old Huey sitting in his front yard, to the chagrin of his HOA. He fired that sucker up, and him and old Billy Ray flew out here to my coordinates and extracted me.

After landing at a convenience store to buy some beer for the flight home, we headed east. Through the skies a way, Billy Ray said, “Well, Rod, I guess you is bout ready to git back home to Georgia, eh?” In fact, I was ready to go home. But I had to take care of some business first. I told them both to take me to New York City. They were both perplexed. All I said to them was “I have an old friend there I have to see before I can go home.”

I have intel on where Anna Conda stays when she is in the United States. She stays at certain hotels depending on what month she is here, and whether her check-in date is an odd or even number. This is for undercover work. I came across the code for her stays while doing the sasquatch work for China. She an I were caught in a snowstorm one night in Buffalo, NY, and had to share a room at the Holiday Inn near the airport. We had like 10 big Igloo ice chests with iced down sasquatch body parts with us in the room.

Anna was like, “No hanky panky, Rod. I am tired and I want to go to bed. Tomorrow we finish business.”

Frankly, I did not blame her for withholding her magnificent muff from me. I was tired as hell. But, I could not settle for nothing. So, when Anna was in the bathroom taking a shower, I started going through her suit case. I wanted to find some of her panties to jack off into. Instead, I found a little black notebook. Inside it contained her lodging codes, and some other interesting things. I photographed the contents with my phone and then put it back.

When Anna got out of the shower she was already dressed in her night clothes. She saw me lying on my back, nude on the bed, and jacking it. “Rod!! GROSS!!!! Go to the restroom to do that shit!!!”, she commanded. I just did it to get a rise out of her. LOL!!

So, if Anna is still inside the U.S., then using the codes I stole from her I can locate precisely where she will be that night. I studied it for a few moments then had my answer. Tonight she would be staying at the Dogman Inn on Hwy 95 South, Room 355. I told Rattler to get me there stat!

We had to stop several times for fuel and beer. Those Hueys go just a bit over a hundred MPH, you know. But eventually, we got there. I gave the boys some money and told them to go to the Waffle House for some coffee to sober up. Then they would fly me home.

I should mention that I also had Rattler’s fully auto Russian AK-74 with spare mags. During the long flight with 2 drunks from Washington State to New York City, I had worked myself up into a towering rage over how Anna fucked me on this Putin deal. She had clearly thrown me aside. But for what, exactly? I figured I would storm the hotel room, get some answers, then shower the room with gun fire.

I busted through the door of Room 355 at exactly 3:35 a.m. There she was. My entry roused her from slumber. I was pointing my rifle at her, center mass. She was shocked at the appearance of a gunman in her room at this time of night. However, she was not as shocked as one would think (this was not the first time something like this has happened to her).

I raised my face from the receiver just enough so she could see it was me. “Rod!!!”, she exclaimed. “What happened to you?!?!? I thought you had died up in those mountains when we never hear from you!” I replied, “Shove it up that cute little ass of yours, Anna. You fucked me. And not in the good way. What the fuck was all that shit about needing a sasquatch for Putin?!?”

Anna played dumb. But it struck me that I had been deliberately put out of the loop for 3 months. Why? Who wanted me away for that long, and why? What went on in my absence?!? I was just dying to know!!! I set my rifle down and pulled out my fixed blade knife, ready to get down to some real nasty work on Anna so I could get some truth. The pure evil of what I was about to do to her caused a wide death grin to grow on my face. Anna saw it. She knew what it meant. She swallowed hard and her eyes betrayed the shear terror she felt inside. I was engorged with blood lust. She knew she had fucked up one time too many this time!!

Suddenly came the sound of the toilet in the bathroom flushing. I was momentarily shocked. I did not expect anyone else to be there with Anna. Anna saw it in my face. I glanced at her and saw that the terror in her face was replaced with pleasure, a slight smile creeping over her face.

I was going to have to face off against this person in the bathroom, who would be out in a split moment. When I do that, I will have to turn 180 degrees from Anna, thereby making me vulnerable to her. I had only once choice: Shoot Anna first.

Just as this came to me, but just before I could act on it, the bathroom door opened. I had to deal with that person before Anna now. I spun around to see that it was a completely nude, and fat, white man. He was a real oafish blob. He looked surprised to see me. He also looked sort of familiar.

I next heard the crack of something hitting my skull hard. I remember the immediate hateful pain that shot through my body and the sound of blood rushing through my ears. I remember the dizziness, then falling to the floor. Clearly, as I fixed on the man from the bathroom, Anna had cracked me over the head with a blunt object.

I came to the next morning, Billy Ray and Rattler had manage to track me down based upon coordinates I left in the chopper that said “IN CASE OF EMERGENCY”. Billy Ray filled up the hotel room ice bucket with cold water and doused my head with it to bring me conscious. I was disoriented at first. But after a bit, what happened in this room the night before came back to me.

Honestly, I am surprised that Anna did not just kill me. I presume that she thinks she can leverage her drop-dead hotness to get me to do more shit for her in the future. She is absolutely right about that too. Rattler then said, “Hey, Rod, that snake bitch left a letter fer ya.”

He handed me the letter. This is what it said:
____________________________________________

“Dear Rod:

Sorry about the boo boo on your head. Hope it heals soon. Also sorry about leaving you in the mountains. I was not running a scam on you Rod. Rather, an opportunity arose for me to acquire a sasquatch body from another person. You may know him since you are a sasquatch hunter. His name is Matt Moneymaker. Anyway, until next time…..

Yours truly,
Anna Conda”
_____________________________________________
I could not fucking believe it. That was fatfuck Moneymaker in the hotel room earlier. Anna fucked Matt Fatfuck Moneymaker for a Sasquatch! That fat son of bitch!!

Billy Ray asked, “You ready to go Rod?” I stood up and said, “Yeah, let’s go.” Then Rattler said, “Hey, ya wanna stop and git some beer fer the ride home?” I replied “Hell yeah.”

I felt like I wanted to die. Thank God for beer and buddies. I don’t blame Anna. She is a fucking snake, and I knew that before this started. Also, I cannot really blame fatfuck Moneymaker for wanting to get some of that hot poon pie Anna serves up. I guess I have to blame fate for fucking me over this time. I even started thinking that next time I will just avoid Anna. But I know I won’t, thus making me subject to this sort of shit again. I had Rattler set us down in Charlottesville so I could buy some hard liquor.

I've been using cannabis consistently for thirteen years, mostly every day, and have been a casual social drinker for most of that time too. Alcoholism runs in my family, both sides, and most of my relatives have either gone fully sober or let their lives be wholly consumed by their drinking, with almost no middle ground. In the past six months I started drinking much more heavily due to life stress, finalizing divorce, inflation, college woes, dating struggles, struggling to get my business off the ground, and just general depression. I was medicated for my depression from the time I was 12-18, when I stopped taking pills (they made me incredibly apathetic but the doctor and my family just said "anything to keep you alive") and I started using cannabis to regulate my emotions instead. I loved it. But I had a wake up call last month when I started dating an amazing and sober man who had gone to rehab. I botched the relationship quickly with some unhealed trauma (we no longer speak and I don't blame him) but I still decided to quit everything to better myself, as he inspired me to get sober. But the toll it's taken has been awful. I spend most of my time now weeping or feeling extremely worried and depressed, idealizing suicide and panicking over the future. I have three kids and my oldest is in middle school, so they're basically seeing the effects firsthand. I was always a chill mom, I coach local youth soccer and work in the forest, I'm a tattooed surfer and active outdoorswoman, very laid back. But since going sober I've become a monster. I lose my shit over small things, I cry at the littlest inconvenience, my temper is short, and I can't seem to focus in my classes at all. I try to be alone mostly now because I feel like I'm ruining everyone's time by being around them and not being able to control my emotions. I feel so stupid and ugly, (which I know isn't true, I'm a conventionally attractive woman and I get hit on a lot where I live). Part of the reason I started drinking more was because guys in bars would offer to buy my drinks and I almost never said no, even if I wasn't interested in talking to them because, hey, free liquor, cool. Now it's been nine days with no cannabis and no alcohol. I feel I have become a pathetic piece of shit. I am dreading coaching practice tonight because I don't want fifteen middle school boys watching me sob uncontrollably. Physically, I feel healthier and I look better already. My skin looks amazing and my sleep and muscle tone has improved. Mentally and emotionally, I feel lost, alone, and very sad, with no escape. I hope it gets better. This is one of the hardest things I have ever done and I don't know what the future holds. If you made it this far thanks for reading.

I (31F) started dating again a little over a year ago and I have noticed a pattern that's new to me. The sex is bad.
After a string of unhealthy relationships, I took some time (2 years) away from my romantic and sexual interests and dove deep into therapy and focusing on my physical and mental health.
I think I'm starting to realize that there's an unfortunate link between good sex and toxic relationships.
I'm also realizing that I have been incredibly lucky in my sexual history. I've been with a good amount of men. So far, most of them (especially in my long term relationships) have had a penis somewhere between 6-7+ inches.
I have been with 4 men in the past year, all in their 30s, and the sex has been generally not good. Two of them were decent in the 4play department, but not great. The other two were not. And all of them had an unsatisfying penis size for me. As I recently talked this through with a friend, I had no idea that a 5 inch penis was so common. Additionally, most of them all seemed pretty unexperienced and slightly insecure in their relationship to their own bodies and a shared sexual experience. I felt like I was back in my early 20s/late teens.
I'm having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that this could just be the price I pay for a healthy relationship. The first two I thought were just unlucky... but after the next two, I'm beginning to feel defeated.
I've heard that most women don't care much about size, but I'm finding that I really miss the connection of that sudden full feeling that makes you feel locked with someone. There's also just the sexual satisfaction that I would get from them mechanics of it all...
I know that I have been attracting men who are more stable than before. All of the recent men I have been with are really nice and kind and mostly have their life together. On paper, they would be great life partners, but I broke it off because the sexual experience was so disappointing. Even though I tried to let this go, I found myself harboring resentments and avoiding intimate contact.
I don't want to be this way. I feel shallow for having this preference and I want to make the decision that maybe sex just isn't that important. When I think like this, I have a feeling of grief that I cant ignore. Sex has always been an important part of my life and identity. I'm having a hard time letting that go.
I haven't found much about this online. I have a feeling it's because there's still so much taboo about women's sexual experience, and saying anything about a man's member size is seen as cruel. It seems like the apex of attacking the male ego. I have avoided posting anything out of fear that I'll be labeled as a shallow b*tch.
I'm also a little angry that these men are in their 30's and haven't figured some of this stuff out by now. I shouldn't have to bear the burden of teaching ANOTHER man to connect with his own body and become better in bed. I did that in my early 20s, and I'm not doing it again. I'll do the basics of telling them what I like, but I refuse to be a mommy in this way - gently teaching a man what he could google all while stroking his ego. (I hope you understand what I mean by mommy - it has more to do with carrying the mental and emotional load).
I guess I'm trying to get some more perspectives from people. Is this part of a sexual life important to anyone else out there? Has anyone had a similar experience and still found a healthy relationship? Should I just get over it with the understanding that the sex may not be great or may take some serious work?

I’m feeling pretty low this week for various reasons, but one thing that has made it worse is people constantly misinterpreting my meaning. I am very high masking, and I didn’t discover I was autistic until I was 32. I have spent a long time learning to improve my communication skills, even before I knew I was autistic, but it never seems good enough. No matter how carefully I think through and word things, no matter how many caveats and qualifications I add, and no matter how much I specify that I am *only speaking for myself and nobody else*, I am somehow always wrong and upsetting people. I have tried being concise, and I get misinterpreted. I have tried explaining myself thoroughly in excruciating detail, and I get told I’m “monopolizing the conversation,” “lecturing,” “ranting,” “being condescending,” or just plain old “talking too much.”
And the thing is, nobody *ever* misinterprets what I’m saying as more positive than I intend; they always, ALWAYS interpret my words in the least generous way possible and draw negative conclusions about my character based on their own projections. They do not ask clarifying questions, either. And then I am made responsible for their misinterpretations and projections. Even when I explain that they have misunderstood my message, they don’t care. They interpreted my words in a way that made them feel bad; therefore, it is *my* responsibility to fix their feelings.
And I get it, sometimes we say something that we don’t mean to be hurtful, but it hurts someone’s feelings anyway, and it’s good to apologize because we care about their feelings. That is a good thing. I am not asking for a complete free pass, but at least some graciousness in interpretation. The fact is that there are many things in life that are not inherently offensive or rude; they are just that way because someone interprets them that way. When it happens all the time and folks insist that their interpretation is the *only* correct one, despite what my actual meaning was, it puts me in the “lower” position in a relationship. Always being the one who is wrong and has to apologize leads to unhealthy relationship dynamics and can, frankly, get to a point of being abusive if it’s bad enough. This happens whether or not people know I am autistic. It is especially disappointing when they *do* know, because they refuse to take that into account when they consider the meaning of my words, and they expect me to do *all* the work to bridge the gap instead of meeting me in the middle. They refuse to acknowledge that communication involves two or more people who are equally responsible for making meaning together and put the full responsibility on me.
An example of this from when I was a kid: I was in school and someone would say, “Dang, that test was really hard and I had to study for hours.” My response would be, “Oh, I found that easy and didn’t have to study at all.” In my mind, I was thinking that we are each contributing to the conversation by sharing our experience and that I was just sharing a neutral fact about my experience. The person who hears that reads it as bragging: trying to put them down and put myself in a superior position by flaunting my accomplishments. But that was not at all the intent of what I said; *they* were the one who read all that into it and got their feelings hurt because of the way they chose to interpret what I said. It took me a long, long time to figure out why that upset people, and by the time I did, people had already decided I was an arrogant asshole. I was just trying to connect and participate the best way I knew how.
I recently turned 35, and I am just so fucking tired after a lifetime of this. Very few people seem to really understand me and my intentions. As an adult, I still regularly get ghosted by people who I think I’m on good terms with, and I almost never know why. Even when people tell me that they like hanging out with me, I can’t trust it because they’ll still ghost me soon after. I moved to a new city a bit over two years ago, but I stopped even trying to make friends a year ago because of this. It makes me not even want to bother trying to connect with others anymore even though I do care very deeply about people and having good relationships. *sigh*

I've struggled with running so much and in the end, the stress of it overwhelmed me, so much so that I lost my career because I couldn't preform (I was only in training but I stuck it out for a year, when it's only meant to be 14 weeks, I never gave up even when I probably should have, which could be seen as a silly move but I've learnt a lot from it and now know a lot more about myself)
Anyway, I had to move back home, I got myself a therapist and a running coach, I've been at this for about eight months, training and talking things through and I've worked hard and I'm going to try to be proud of myself in this moment and say it because I have worked hard, I've overcome so many fears, from not being able to get out the car at a Parkrun, to getting personal best times, from being told I have cptsd to facing those demons in healthier ways
All the while I have people complaining that it's taking too long, costing too much (I don't get help with the expenses, fund it myself) And that it just isn't worth it
So my point is, todays the day I ran 11 minutes 15 seconds 2K time, pass mark I need for entry is 11 minutes 30 seconds, today I did it, I'm not going to worry about tomorrow or months from now, today I ran the time I need and I'm going to progress to 10 minutes 30 seconds somewhere down the line, just for a little wiggle room, to know if I have a bad day, that it'll be ok, but for now 11 minutes 15 seconds is bloody huge
Please be proud of me to,
Thank you

TLDR: Im planning to leave my religious and semi controling home and my religious image that comes with it. I know for a fact that talking will not be an option as my dad will oppose it and probably be very heartbroken. I cant live in a lie of practicing my religion when I dont believe in it. I want to be independent as well. Leaving is the only option. I love them so much but it feel it has to be done.
Has anyone been through this?
Hi, Im 26M. Recently, I have had a event that change my perspective on religion and religious views. It was terrible and very destructive. It had brought so much pain and few months back was the climax that changed it all. I do not want to keep my current religious image. But I cant remove or change my image at my home because my father is religious and I dont want to break his heart. I respect my father too much and I know he will never agree with what I am going to do but I want to live my life.
I plan to leave my home and never come back ever, or at least until my dad allows me. I doubt that will ever happened. My whole life he has been so strict about religion and teachings and so engrossed in the idea. I on the other hand always question it and dispised the strict rules imposed on me by my dad and religion, personally I have seen the bad and good but theres more bad then good. I am passed my limit and I cant take it anymore. I have lived with them my entire life but feel like Im in shackles, I want to break free from this.
I love my father and mother so much, to the core. I have always tried to be the model son that they want, great grades, top university in my country, good paying job, I respected them, took care of them, help them financially when I could. The have raised me well, they have sacrificed for me, they have struggled for me, Im so thankful and I try my best to repay them by working very hard and achieving their expectations. I did my best. They did their best.
Now, I have made a decision to leave, potentially for good. I might never get to see them again after I change my image as I might give my dad a heart attack for what Im about to do. I have a car loan to clear off and I am very close to clearing it off, which will give me extra funds to pay for rent and I already have emergency funds ready. I will probably be ready to move out by the end of the year. I cannot tell them I am leaving because they will convince me to stay or it will break my heart to leave. I forgot to mention that I have a younger sister who is married with no kids, so she can probably take over my duties of taking care of my parents. I will provide monetary funds to my parents month just to help them a little.
Im thankful for my parents, I love them to bits. I may not have the perfect family but its the best family I could ask for. If I ever get to repeat this lifetime I wouldnt change a thing because they are perfect to me. But my time has come, I need my freedom, I want to live my life. Im sorry if I disappointed them. I hope they find it in their heart to forgive me for what I am about to do.

Been trying to get corporate to even just put AIR CONDITIONING in my store for the past year and it looks like we’re going into this summer, once again, with an 89° home dec section and standing together in front of the tiny desk fan we have at the cut counter to cool off before one of us passes out. Corporate visits us and complains about how hot it is in our store, we tell them we’re dying working in these conditions, and then they leave and we are told to try putting small fans at team members stations, then we never hear about it again. I think this is the most incompetent and frankly stupid corporate management team I’ve ever seen in action, at any company. Our store is one of the largest in my entire district, we are supposed to have 5 WORKING AC UNITS TOTAL. we have ONE. Not to mention everything that all of us are struggling with company wide (no hours, rock bottom wages, horrible working conditions, freight overload, insane expectations within the stores from corporate.) I’m just convinced more and more everyday that corporate does not give a flying fuck about any of the people who actually have to work in the stores. They show up a few times a year, to make sure the stores under them are making enough money to keep their pockets full, and forget everything the teams tell them during the visit as soon as they back on the plane. Then they pretend they know what’s going on, enough to tell us that we’re just not doing enough on the ground level. People working 40+ hours (sometimes 50+ if they’re exempt from overtime and the company doesn’t have to pay them extra) shouldn’t be struggling to afford gas to get to work, when these corporate fucks get paid to fly around the country just so they can walk around a Joann’s for 10 minutes, disrespect the store managers and then go have a fancy company lunch at the nearest red lobster.
INVEST MORE MONEY AND TIME INTO THE PEOPLE WHO ARE ACTUALLY WORKING IN THE STORES OR YOU WILL FAIL.
I have not felt this taken advantage of, undervalued, and disrespected since I worked at cold stone at 15 y/o and my manager violated child labor law after child labor law to overwork and underpay me as hard as he could.
TLDR: I’m so fucking over this company. My building hasn’t had ac for a year, and corporate has shown any interest in fixing anything we need or hearing any of our concerns. They do nothing, get their paychecks, and go home.