Diaper story

My husband loves me, and he loves Sadie. But mainly, he's tired. And so eventually Sadie got her rat. Honey lived happily in Sadie's room in his 3-tiered Rat Palace, and every day I would take time out from soothing the infant and wrestling with the 3-year-old to play with the rat, something the pet store warned I had to do if I wanted to socialize him. 

I was remembering this morning about when my husband and I had to live with my parents due to financial reasons a couple years ago (no longer in that situation and live across the country from them). Nmom would help me take care of my son who was a baby at the time because my husband was working a lot, I was incredibly depressed, and I needed help. Obviously I know now why and that I turned to the wrong source for help. Here’s the story.
There were two separate instances where Nmom accused my husband of being “small” if you know what I mean and she said she based that off changing my son’s diapers. I haven’t thought about this in a while, and I’m realizing that this is very scary behavior and a massive red flag. What do I do with this info I have? My son has not been abused by her and I never left her alone with him, so that’s not my concern, but her talking about my son and husband this way is scary. She is married and my husband has absolutely nothing to do with her or my father.

This is the text I sent my husband so I don’t have to retype it.
Basically, we all were at my parents house, there was some extra random people there for a mix of family friends.
Well, someone had just bought an item from a thrift store. It was possessed with a demon. it was slowly possessing everyone and making them very violent. I figured out that if we were outside it was okay and the effects stopped. So we were all camping outside and realized we left keys inside, diapers inside, etc so we had to keep strategically going inside.
Well the demon adapted and eventually slowly spread to outside but in a smarter way to where by the time we realized it, it was too late.
I was trying to call 911 and talk to them through the possession to ask for help and an exorcist. I was relieved when someone was trying to help me until they revealed that they were a medium. They told me that I wasn’t talking t0 911 and that she often received dead people and helped them realize it and pass through.
Long story short, almost everyone ended up possessed and killing themself or another person.
So I realize what was going on and travel to the afterlife all of us that was there was reunited, and we were reunited with family that had died us before too. So it was a happy reunion. There was a baby there that we had a miscarriage of that we were reunited with too, and I was so happy to see the baby and (kids name) but realized you (husband) weren’t there and I couldn’t find you.
I started freaking out and like turned into a ghost. And you and a couple other people that survived were sitting on neighbors porch steps while the cops and everyone was at the house trying to contain what happened. I’m watching you so glad you survived but sad you weren’t with me. So I started following you around, seeing what you were doing. You got into a truck, it was your old black truck you sold lol, I somehow leaned against your arm and tried to make you realize I was there. Somehow you did. You couldn’t see me but could feel me and I was hugging you and loving on you and telling you about how I was with everyone and (kid) was okay, and that we had our miscarried baby with us and she was beautiful and that I loved you so much. And then we tried to have sex while I was a ghost.
Then my alarm went off.
What the hell???

We are 2 fathers navigating the ups and downs of parenting while trying to juggle our personal interest of cars. Stories will range from handling a baby’s magical diaper to long journey’s in the car with our kids.
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https://open.spotify.com/show/69PhUV1h64XNa1VF1xKgz3
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-- I just kinda wrote down how i'm feeling at the moment. I made it in the style of a story. But it's the best way i can get it out. Sorry it is long. Just read it. That's all I ask. --
I don’t know what I’m doing. For the better part of 10 years, my entire adult life, I’ve never known what it is that I’m trying to accomplish. Am I doing the right thing by dedicating all my time to my work? What do I consider my work? Is it my actual job that pays me biweekly? Or is it my job as a father... or maybe it’s my major at university? Whatever it is, it’s never enough. Life is supposed to be fulfilling and right now, I can’t tell the difference between fulfilling and life-sucking. Distractions scratch an itch but have never satisfied my hunger.
Enough complaining, let me tell you what I do on a daily basis. My day starts at 6 AM. Why? Because I’m a slave to the corporate machine. But that’s a story for another day. Work ends around 4 PM if things go the way they should, and often they don’t. My commute home usually takes 30 to 45 minutes due to the ignorant shipyard traffic that consumes every road, freeway, and dirt road. Hundreds of moron drivers that create a ghost of a traffic jam. It’s now 5 PM. I’m free. Respite from retail hell. From the public. I’m alone. At least for now. What’s next? Dinner, dishes, workout, or relax? God knows relaxing isn’t a real option. Working out? No thanks, I’ve been on my feet for 10 hours. Dinner will get me yelled at by my family if I pick the wrong thing to eat, we’ll get to that later, so dishes it is! 6:30 PM. They arrive. My wife, my son, and the attitude that comes along with it. What did I do this time? Why is everyone raising their voice at me? Why do I get attitude, huffing and puffing, and whining when I ask for any kind of help? Oh, you worked for 3 hours today and your back hurts. I’m sorry. The kid has been a pain since you got home? I’m sorry. You don’t feel good? I’m sorry. Have you noticed my problem yet? Obviously, I haven’t made dinner yet. Good job thinking about other’s feelings. Worked out great.
Back in 2019, I was let go from my job. COVID was great, right? Unemployment was paying more than I made working my full-time job. I’m not going to pretend to be a good little boy and not abuse it. I did. I milked the fuck out of it. I took a leap and applied for college. My dream has always been to make video games. My life has revolved around them since I was in diapers. I signed up for a 4-year degree in game programming. Little did I know that this was just a misguided investment in my own validation.
It is now 9:00 PM, and aside from the wife and the kid asking me to come to the room every 15 minutes, I have time. Not much, but I have some. Enough. I hope… What is left that I need to do? I need to do homework. Yay. The time is now 2:00 AM. I should probably go to bed… but I’ve had absolutely zero me time. A couple YouTube videos wouldn’t hurt right? What’s the difference between 4 hours of sleep and 3 hours of sleep? Not much honestly. Some time between 2 AM and 4 AM I go to bed. Every night is different, don’t judge me.
The cycle continues. 2-4 hours of sleep, work, cleaning, yelled at, dinner, homework, repeat. For the record, that is not all I do. There are some smaller amounts of time where I spend time with my son, or I have a few minutes free to play games, or spend time with my wife. Even when I’m being judged or yelled at, I’m expected to stay calm and levelheaded. It’s my job. I’m a man, welcome. I’ve also searched for more fulfilling hobbies and that’s what comes next.
From 2015 to 2017 I was streaming on twitch. I loved every minute of it. I was growing and making real money. Then THE big event happened. My wife, my girlfriend at the time with our newborn child, and I were supposed to be moving out that weekend. I took off early from work that day to get started. I walk in the apartment. Empty. Aside from a bed in the corner of the room, a dresser, my computer, and my poor dog Bella inside a cage. I let the dog out, walked around to see what else I needed to move. I called my girlfriend, excited that she had gotten a head start on our move. If you’ve figured it out already, yes, she did. If you haven’t, she was leaving me and taking our child. This was the start of my downfall.
A lot happened between then and now. But it worked out. We got married. Almost divorced. A lot of toxicity between us. But I loved her. And I loved my son. They were, and still are, my everything. So, I stuck it out.
Enough babbling. I’m currently learning two languages to further my own personal education. Spanish and Japanese. Spanish because it’s difficult to get by in life without it, and Japanese because I am obsessed with Japan and Japanese culture, and I hope to travel to Japan someday. So, on top of everything, I’m also doing that. It takes a lot out of me.
Is that it, OP? You’re overfilling your plate… You’re going too fast, doing too much, and not living a healthy lifestyle. No. It’s not it. Here comes YouTube. No, not the videos I watch. I also make videos. The 30ish minutes I have available to play games? Yeah, I multitask and use my game time to record a video. Shameless mid story plug? You be the judge.
Some nights are spent mashing watching videos, doing homework, or relaxing with editing the videos. No one wants just a recording of some idiot playing video games. It needs quality, it needs cuts, it needs love, it needs hours…
Is it alot to some people? Yeah, and some others might say that it’s light work. It’s not good to have such little sleep. On top of the sleep apnea I already have, which makes my 2-4 hours of sleep the equivalent of 1-2 hours of sleep.
I’ve realized that I’m stuck. I’ve done way too much to give up, and I’ve done way too much to keep going. I’m financially ruined, physically destroyed, and metaphorically molested. All because I wanted something. Validation.
Take it from me. It’s not worth it. Live your life. Know your limits. Don’t seek validation.

We’re traveling for a family wedding over Memorial Day weekend, and it will be our first trip with the baby. He’ll be just about 7 months and is ebf..we’re introducing food now-ish but will probably just pause that for the weekend. We’re driving (~4 hours) and staying in a hotel. Planning to bring 100 diapers. I’m a little anxious (long drive! in-laws! sleeping in a new place!) and would love any tips, packing lists, encouraging stories, things that were unexpectedly helpful or totally unnecessary.

when i was younger, my older cousin read me a scary story and i cant find anything about it with how im describing it but here goes. it was a story set around halloween. two kids are on their way to a party for the holiday, nearly getting hit by a car on their way there. they arrive at the party and everyones talking about being undead and how their going to do this ritual to turn forward time to see the people die (i think thats what the purpose was). the party host says that only those without a reflection (hinting at everyone there being undead) can attend. the two kids panic and think theyre about to to be found out, but when the mirror gets to them, them have no reflection. they both act like nothings wrong until theyre alone. one tells the other a sort of "i dont think we survived that crash". they go with the other partygoers to a field and everyone stands in a circle to do the ritual. everyone holds hands and begin to chant(?) something to start the ritual. the circle starts to spin clockwise to speed up time. the two kids get the circle to spin counterclockwise and turn back time. they try to leave the circle when time is turned back to earlier that night, before they got hit by the car. but they cant leave. when the circle finally stops spinning, the kid whose POV the story was in is a baby again and is crying. one of her parents remarks about how her diaper had just been changed and wonders why shes crying. and yeah, thats what i remember. thank yall if anyone has any idea

My daughter will be 3 in August. She’s shown all of the signs of potty readiness for the last 6 months or so. We were doing great with sitting on the potty a few times a day, reading potty stories, and singing potty songs. Then one day my husband and I were making dinner and she went into the bathroom, pulled down her diaper, and peed in the potty all by herself then called me over to show me. We were so excited that we clapped and cheered and told her how proud we were- then she started crying and got really really upset. We comforted her and that night before bedtime she asked “why did mama and dada laugh at me?”- it broke my heart. I explained that we were so excited and happy and proud, and we weren’t laughing at her. She worried about it for multiple nights. Now it’s been about 3 months and she hasn’t used the potty since, she said “it’s too loud” (meaning the clapping and cheering) even when we reassured her we wouldn’t make noise. She does ask for “privacy” and will close herself in the bathroom and go through the actions (sit on potty in her diaper, pull toilet paper and pretend wipe, flush toilet, wash hands)- we spied to learn what she was doing. But she won’t do this without a diaper or if we are around and says she doesn’t want to use the potty when we ask. We feel so terrible and learned a lesson about having more muted reactions with our sensitive girl. Any advice for how to move forward in any way? Do we just wait as she continues her private process? Anything we can do? We have a new baby coming in July, not sure to wait till after or try for before.

I, (18F) moved in with my boyfriend (19M) a couple of months after I turned 18, and my parents were furious and hurt. There’s a lot to unpack with this one, so bear with me.
My parents (40F and 42M) are very religious and were somewhat strict while I was growing up. I have two younger brothers, one 17 and one 8 (this will be important later). For context, my father is a pastor at a local church and my parent’s religious beliefs are the reasoning behind most if not all of their actions. Growing up, I was never a stereotypical girl. I didn’t have many female friends and was usually not accepted in groups with guys as I was a girl and we were kids. I was extroverted as a child but due to being repeatedly rejected by kids my age, I became more introverted. I was a major nerd who loved superheroes and I wanted to play sports. Again, for context, the town I grew up in was very conservative and my parents are very conservative themselves. Girls liked girl things- even if they claimed that’s not how they felt, it’s how they acted. However, as a kid, I did not realize this. I played soccer and basketball growing up, regardless of how “weird” it made me because I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. I was probably around 9 or 10 at this point. It was around this time my parents started having issues with my hobbies. I remember my parents trying to convince me to be a cheerleader because I would “like it more,” but I insisted on playing basketball. (This basketball/cheer program was through our church by the way). Because I was still young, they let it slide, but to this day I remember them being annoyed with it. This is also around the time dieting was introduced to me as well as calorie counting. I have always struggled with my weight and so has my mother, so they were very adamant on making sure I was being “healthy.” I didn’t understand it, but as a child, the only thing I was worried about was making my parents happy. A lot of discipline I received revolved around emotion. What I was doing was right or wrong and if I did something wrong, I felt terrible and awful and would often come crying to my parents about the mistakes I made, fearful of their disappointment and anger if they found things out themselves. They also made everything a moral dilemma- everything was about God and religion and as a kid, it really messed with my head. I would blame myself for everything that went wrong, seeing it as God’s punishment for my behavior. When I was 9, I went so far as to blame my grandmother’s death on myself because I was hanging out with boys instead of girls. This made me to be more of an introvert and my now anxiety disorder is much much worse.
About a year later, my parents sat down with me and my brother and told us they wanted to adopt. At first, I was very excited. I loved the idea of having another brother or sister. And I wouldn’t trade my 8 year old brother (let’s call him Scott) for anything, but adopting kids is part of what triggered a huge change in my parent’s behavior. Also- I had started getting older. I loved playing video games, watching cartoons and writing. However, these weren’t the things they wanted me to like I guess, because I started to feel their judgment become more clear and apparent as I got older. Now, I assume this is because as a kid, I just did what I was told, or my oddities were assumed to fade over time, but that is not the case anymore. Anyways, entering middle school, our family fostered a little girl, let’s call her Ally. A young woman in our church had told us that Ally’s family was out of the picture, and as her aunt, she couldn’t take her in as she was already a single mom and planned on adopting her brother, but couldn’t handle all three alone. So my family stepped in- however, we had come to find that her father was still in the picture and was actively fighting for custody. And Ally was a bit of a handful. My parents have admitted that they expected to swoop in, save a child from a hard life and be the heroes, and when things were harder than that they were very upset. Ally was about three- she remembered her mom (who was in jail i believe), her sisters, her grandma and grandpa, as well as her dad. She didn’t want our family, she wanted hers. She didn’t listen to my parents and rejected their parenting. This is what started to make my parents snap. I understand it was hard for them, but now that I’m older, I get it. She was a little girl who wanted her family. But they took her rejection very seriously and were constantly unhappy with her and made sure she knew it. Children not listening immediately was newer to them as my brother and I both did pretty much whatever they asked, and they did not take well to being told “no” by a child. 8 months after living with Ally, she was taken in by her grandparents to live with them and her sisters. The next day, my parents took my brother and I on a small trip. I’m not sure if it was to cheer us up or to celebrate. I was quite sad though- I had started to really care about Ally and had convinced myself that “God would take care of things” and I would have a sister. But I was angry- God took someone away from me and I was doing everything right. Why was he punishing me? Nothing made sense. Yet, only a year later, my parents were considering taking in another child. I wanted nothing to do with it- God had already taken one sibling away from me. I couldn’t do it again. In the end, I agreed and soon became attached to this little boy, who was two when we met him. This was Scott. I immediately became attached- and I love this kid more than I can describe- he’s my little brother and I would do anything for him.
This is where things start to go further downhill. Scott has a lot of trauma and mental issues, one of those issues being oppositional defiant disorder. That basically means that listening to any form of authority is near impossible for him, and causes him to lash out and act younger than he is. This is probably due to a number of reasons, as he was severely neglected and abused as an infant and his birth mother was on several different substances while pregnant with him, to the point where he was born high on several illegal drugs. He was left in a car seat for most of his infant life, so the back of his head is slightly flattened due to this. My parents are very obedient/disciplined-based parents, so his behavior rocked their world. In my opinion, the way they handled things with Scott was borderline abusive. There were several occasions where he would say he hated them (as young children do when they're mad) and they would flip. Telling him that if he didn’t want them that was fine. They didn’t need him. He could run back to his other parents, but his mom was in jail and his dad didn’t want him, so good luck with that. If we were in the car when this happened, they would threaten to leave him on the side of the road and good luck finding his way home. Once my mother literally pulled to the side of the road, placed him outside the car and started driving so he would “think they would leave him if his actions didn’t change,” but she turned around to get him. Because they would “never actually abandon or hurt him,” their actions were justified and perfectly fine. They would tell him he was acting like a baby when he started to cry and scream. “Little baby Scott, do you need a diaper?” Is how they would tease him when he became older, which just made his tantrums worse. They would tell him how disappointed they were with him and that he should be ashamed of himself and the way he acted because they gave him everything. They would call him, to his face, “an ungrateful manipulative piece of shit.” Because according to my parents, he could control his actions 100% and was choosing to act out to make their lives difficult. While I understand that this was hard for them, in my opinion, this in no way excuses their behavior. One time, Scott was crying and was upset (who knows why, but the kid had a lot of trauma and mental issues so it didn’t bother me too much), and my mother picked him up and put him in his room. She told him that every time he tried to leave his room, she would take away one of his stuffed animals. (He had several that he loved very much). Because this sounded so terrible to him, he ran after her trying to say it wasn’t fair. So she went into his room and took a stuffed animal. This cycle continued while he cried and begged for her to stop, because he just didn’t get it that she was going to keep doing this over and over and his trying to convince her was making it worse. Eventually, there were none left, and she told him if he didn’t stop crying she was going to throw them all away. I don’t remember what happened after that, but I do know that several of them were thrown away, if not at that time than others. There are many other instances of things like this and worse occurring, but we’d be here for a while if I tried to recount them all. Moving forwards to closer when I was moving out-
Now, several years later, when I turned sixteen, I had come to terms with the fact that I was bisexual. This went against everything my family was for, and I knew exactly how they viewed queer people. So, I started learning about different branches of Christianity and felt like I knew a God who loved me as I was and was happy in my decision to switch denominations. (My parents were baptists, and I wanted to be non-denominational). A few months after this, I decided to tell my parents the truth. I had done my best to give them hints, but I wanted to be honest with them because I trusted that they would love me and be there for me no matter what. When I told them I wanted to talk to them about something, they pushed and pressed and I had been trying to wait to talk to them until the next day. I had been seeing my high school counselor, and she suggested giving them a heads-up before springing that conversation up on them. However, after telling them to wait, they went through my phone and saw that I had researched different denominations and read different sermons on queer-accepting faith. They were livid. To be clear- I had a friend over while this was happening. We were watching a movie and joking about how I lost my phone and couldn’t show them this picture I wanted to. Then, I was called upstairs. I had apparently betrayed my parents and, “how could I do this to them, when I had someone over?” My father demanded I send my friend home, but my mother convinced him for one more hour. I was told not to tell my friend anything they had said and to act like things were fine, but I couldn’t. I went back downstairs where we were hanging out and started sobbing. I felt like my whole world was falling apart. Everything was over- and the people I thought would love me no matter what made me so afraid and sad, I was completely broken. My friend did their best to comfort me and even felt weary to leave me alone with my family but I told them I’d be okay, and asked that they update our friends about the situation. That night was hellish. So many conversations, them trying to understand what I felt, but not taking me particularly seriously either. That night turned into weeks of books, slideshows, conversations, and prayers. It felt like at-home conversion therapy. Eventually, I was given a choice “put my convictional flag in the ground or loose their trust.” As the petrified 16 year old, I chose to lie. I put my “flag” in the ground and did my best to, “earn back their trust” and repair their reputation that I had tarnished. The next couple months were a blur. I felt so terrible about myself. I didn’t know what I thought or believed and I became extremely hyper anxious and depressed. I had lost all sense of privacy and I did trust my parents further than I could toss them. My 17 year old brother (he was 14 at the time, let’s call him James) was 100% on board with my parents. My life felt like a living nightmare. My parents had it so that all my texts sent or received from my phone would go directly to theirs, so I couldn’t even confide in my friends without getting into trouble (which had happened and was how I found out that they did that because I deleted the texts immediately after sending/receiving things).. Everything felt like it was about me and how I needed to earn back their trust and how I was a terrible betrayer who they were not proud of in the slightest. I had gone to get a pixie cut (with their approval) and after they told me I was disgusting and repulsive and would never find a man to love me. I was heartbroken and felt so alone and unloved in my house, while I had to watch my younger brother be treated the way he was by my parents.
Luckily, I had a lot of friends and our school counselor who had been there for me through everything. They showered me with support and love and made sure I had a safe space to exist and truthfully I think they’re the only reason I didn’t do anything drastic and am still here today. It was hard though because James went to the same school as me and would tell my parents if I was with anyone he knew was queer or queer accepting. This caused me to be very very paranoid about who I was with, when, where, etc. Constantly covering my tracks, having an excuse set up and ready to bolt if I saw anyone I knew. What made things equally hard is that the church my father works at is quite big in our area. So if someone from our church or someone who knew my family saw me with anyone they labeled as “queer” or “gay,” they would tell my family as well. For the most part, I didn’t feel safe anywhere. I was constantly alert and on guard, even when I was asleep as my parents had woken me up before to confront me about someone I was friends with at school.
Fortunately for me, despite everything being such a mess, I am quite academically smart. I got a job the second I turned sixteen as I had heard the horror stories of queer kids being kicked out and wanted to be prepared. I had been saving money, taking college classes (we have a state program that pays for the classes while you’re in high school), and putting on a show for my family for quite some time. After saving some money, I paid my parents for an older car that they had paid off ten or so years ago. After my brother turned 16, he claimed it was too hard to share a car with me, so while I was away visiting a friend they bought him a car and told us that they expected each of us to pay them one thousand dollars before we graduated high school and that when we did so, they would sign over our respective cars to us. To be clear, I contributed to insurance and paid for my own gas, as well as contributing to my phone bill and money for food. Meanwhile, my brother had no job, and was constantly asking my parents for money to go out with friends. He had also taken up golfing, which as most people know is extremely expensive, and my parents funded everything. James had actually admitted to asking for more money than he needed and save the leftovers for whatever he wanted. I was also expected to chauffeur him to golf events and to get togethers with his friends, and my parents would in return give me some gas money. Another thing to note is that the only reason I was contributing to our phone bill is because James wanted unlimited data and my father said it was unreasonable unless we both contributed financially. I refused as I was trying to save money (as I would have with the car situation), however things per normal went James’s way. However, because he did not have a job, he was not expected to pay anything and would not be charged for the months and years that he did not contribute to. I did my best not to let these things get to me and to keep a level head. I paid my parents for the car because I already had over two thousand dollars saved as a seventeen year old high school student due to my hard work.
I focused on my classes and joined theater to help fill the hours in between school and work. I was much more active my sophomore year but when James also decided to join theater I retreated a bit as my once safe space to freely exist was no longer safe. I joined the stage crew but honestly that was also very enjoyable and lethargic for me and I enjoyed it a lot. Anyways, I was mostly a straight A student besides the stray Bs and one or two Cs (psychology and AP government screwed me over) and was working 15 or so hours a week. This is on top of my commitments to the church which were most of my Sundays and my Wednesday evenings. The funny thing is though- James missed more church than I ever did yet because my absence was because of work and not golf, I was the one consistently reprimanded for my lack of attendance and socialization whilst I was there. Yet because James could never do anything wrong and was a very extroverted person his lack of attendance wasn’t as serious as my own. I had one close friend through our church, let’s call her Grace (now 18F) and she actually knew about everything and was very supportive of me. I also had some other friends who really only showed up to church so I didn’t have to go through the torture alone which I don’t know if I could ever repay them for. Besides the people I was comfortable with though, I was pretty much a loner there and this heavily displeased my parents as it made them look bad and messed with their reputation. I never realized how much appearances meant to them until all of the shit that happened took place. As I mentioned before, our church is very conservative and traditional, and many sermons and lessons revolved around gender roles and the sinfulness of the world in terms fo the LGBTQ community. I consistently felt targeted because of my looks and my personality and stopped feeling comfortable there a very long time ago.
Now that more context is in place, fast forward to the end of my junior year. I had at this point finished all my high school requirements for graduation and was given an incredible opportunity to go to our local college full time for my senior year. I was very excited and happy because not only did it give me more freedom but it also meant I would get more than a year of my college education paid for by the state.
It was also around this time when I met my now boyfriend, let’s call him Dean. We were coworkers and had begun to get to know each other. We had a lot in common and while were different people personality wise, we enjoyed each other’s company quite a bit. By some miracle, I convinced my parents to allow me to hang out with him outside of work by claiming he was just a friend and saying that he was a Christian (which is by no means true). They were extremely skeptical but allowed us to hang out. We had an incredible time- and by the end of our first date he asked me to be his girlfriend which I happily accepted. I was so happy, but when I got home, things spiraled out of control. I told my parents about our time, and they were extremely unhappy as they felt fooled (which they were to be fair) and told me I was not allowed to see him ever again. I was devastated and they said a lot of very uncalled for things and but I understand why they were angry. To be clear, they knew I had a romantic interest in Dean and that this hangout was to see if we would be compatible partners and get to know each other better. They did not call it a date though because they weren’t comfortable with it, even if it was a date and they kinda knew it. So while they were on some level “fooled,” I feel that their anger and harshness wasn’t called for as they knew the intentions of our hanging out. The next morning my father demanded to see my phone. This is when I started to panic. You see, they had stop tracking my texts and I had openly flirted with Dean over text. Nothing that explicit and no photos of any kind. But the flirting would be enough for them to tear my world apart and I knew it. They had gone through my personal conversations before and made me feel terrible because of it and I refused to let them do it again. So I deleted everything. The entire conversation chain, I removed it from my phone 100%. My parents absolutely lost their shit. They had been manipulating and gaslighting me for years, doing anything and everything to keep their control and with my actions I showed them they couldn’t control me forever and things went very downhill. I lost all my privacy and was once again told how I had betrayed them and I was terrible and couldn’t be trusted. Again- I partially understand their anger here because I had directly disobeyed a command. But at the same time, I feel as a young woman I should be allowed some sense of privacy and the ability to talk to people without being constantly monitored. I don’t feel like I did anything wrong and would happily do it again in a heartbeat if it meant I’d be where I am today. Regardless of this, my life became a living hell once again, and my parents compared this to when I came out, “which was maybe the worst night of their lives.” They stripped me of all my privileges even if I didn’t have many to begin with. They made me feel absolutely miserable and awful about myself and I was monitored like never before. I would be working and receive texts upon texts of how I was so terrible and how could I do this to them because they had done everything for me and I’m a terrible daughter who should be ashamed of myself for the deceit and malicious nature of my actions. Again- this was because they could not read the messages between me and my now boyfriend. I understand them being mad but they took it to a completely inappropriate level. I shared everything happening with my friends and counselor and they supported me and assured me I did nothing wrong and they would be there for me which helped but as my home was now a living hellscape it was hard to hear it. I found a way to tell Dean about things and at first he felt guilty but I assured him that their actions were not his fault but theirs. He then asked me if I wanted to pause our relationship but I told him honestly that they had taken so many things I cared about over the years and I refused to let them take this. I did tell him however I understood if he didn’t want to put up with all the complicatedness of my family but he told me he cared for me and would be there so long as I was okay with it. He also told me if things ever got really bad at home, regardless of the fact we had just started dating, he had spoken to his family and they offered me a place to stay if I needed/wanted it. This really touched me, but I reassured him that it was not his job to offer that, but I appreciated the offer.
This begins our relationship and we were very happy. We had found a way to communicate over email, and we were able to hide our relationship with my family. Luckily for me, over the years I had made a habit of hanging out at the park by myself so it was not strange for me to head to the park for a couple of hours. There, I would leave my car and phone (my phone had a tracker on it) and Dean and I would hangout multiple times a week and it was heaven. At this point, we’ve only been dating for a year but I can admit without any doubt that I am in love with this man and he is in love with me. During the school year, it became easier for us to hang out in between classes as we both went to the same college (I am older for my year in school and he is younger, so he was a sophomore in college while I was a senior in high school. However, we are barely a year apart in age for anyone who is concerned). However, in order for us to communicate and hang out, I had to be extremely diligent and was consistently covering my tracks while “once again, earning my parents trust and repairing our relationship.” Because of course their actions were completely justified and I was the one in the wrong, per normal. Anyways, every day, I was editing search histories, erasing messages, and looking over my shoulder. Our church had a program on campus where Dean and I went to school, so being together in public was risky as my father’s friends and coworkers were always on campus and I knew I would be screwed if we were caught together. We had a couple of close calls over the months but it was all worth it because I hadn’t been that happy in years.
Now, to the day I left and why. You see, my parents' behavior towards Scott was becoming more aggressive and worse over time. They also had, in my opinion, a drinking problem. Considering they didn’t deny it when I called them out, they may agree. They would behave more hostile after several drinks and it was happening so consistently I was constantly walking on eggshells. Between the way they treated Scott, the way they treated me and the constant stress I was under trying to balance my life in fear of the repercussions, things became too much. When things weren’t going to shit, I was consistently expected to either babysit my brother and do chores while being a full time college student and working a part time job WHILE attending church multiple times a week and keeping up with my responsibilities as a senior. This is on top of the stress my parents' behavior caused, meanwhile James was expected to do almost nothing in comparison. Don’t get me wrong- he didn’t do anything, but he had almost no responsibilities outside of school and his extracurriculars which were exclusively funded by my parents. Yes he helped with dishes during the week and would keep his space tidy. But as my schedule became much more flexible due to my school schedule, my expectations around the house became much higher than his. Even though I paid 200 a month on gas, 50 a month for insurance and 50 a month for the phone bill, and he paid nothing for his car, insurance, phone, gas, nothing. So you would think he would be expected to help in the house more but no. Also, James’s behavior towards Scott mimicked my parents and so all babysitting responsibilities fell on me as they couldn’t be trusted alone together. I was rarely if ever paid for my cleaning or babysitting services as it was my responsibility as their eldest child. They would also consistently judge me for my weight, cloths, hair, hobbies, etc. Why did I think it was a good idea to get fast food? I clearly didn’t need it. They would “outfit check me” to make sure the outfits I wore were feminine enough because the way I look effected their reputation and I couldn’t be trusted. I was not allowed to cut my hair after their tantrum over it. As for my hobbies, I stopped playing sports in middle school as I am very short (currently 5 foot even) and was unable to keep up with my peers. However my interest in video games and cartoons wasn’t feminine enough and they proceeded to compare me to my best friend Grace because she was skinnier and liked more feminine things than I did which hurt a lot. Another thing for context, I have PCOS. It’s an endocrine disorder that heavily effects your metabolism and hormones, which in turn severely effected my weight, however my parents never acknowledged it and again made everything my fault. So from what I wore, what I ate, who I hung out with and what I enjoyed doing was constantly criticized, scrutinized and eventually controlled by my family for years. On top of everything else, I was done. I was 18, I had resaved the thousand I paid my family and knew I was at a place where I didn’t need them and was tired of being treated like shit. So I left.
The night I moved out was a total shit show. I had rallied Dean and my other friend, let’s call them Rita (18NB), and they helped me form a plan. When I returned home, Dean and Rita would be on their way. I would pack everything that belonged to me or I felt they would let me take, and prep the bags outside. After Rita arrived I went to try and explain to my parents that I would be leaving and explain calmly why. In a perfect world, we would have had a long deep talk, and things would have ended alright. That is far, far from what happened. They immediately starting screaming, and took my phone and car keys as both belonged to them, which I calmly handed over. Rita was there for emotional support, and put themselves between me and my parents as they got more angry and seemed to be turning aggressive. After that, my father called the police and claimed that there was an intruder in their home trying to take their child. Yeah. Complete bullshit- which to this day I’m surprised they were never charged with falsifying a 911 call. They screamed at Rita to get out of their home and was screaming that I was throwing away everything and I needed to reconsider. I ignored them and attempted to calmly walk out, and my parents attempted to barricade the doors while harassing Rita to leave. Because Rita is incredible and one of my closest friends now, they refused to leave without me which was very calming. While my parents were distracted yelling at them, I slipped out through the garage. My mother saw this and then grabbed me, attempting to drag me inside by my arm. Rita saw this and assisted me in getting her off me, and after doing so we continued to walk towards Dean’s car where he was waiting for us. He figured it would be best if my family didn’t see him for the time being as they would definitely lose their minds at seeing his face. My parents continued screaming and then the cops arrived. They were quite confused at first because they had been sent to deal with a potential kidnapping, only to see two grown adults throwing a tantrum because their adult child didn’t want to live with them anymore. That night was honestly so insane I could write three more pages about everything they said and did. The most notable events were first when my mother tried to explain to the police that because I was her child, she was allowed to put her hands on me, which they humorously informed her was not the case. The next was when James came home from theater rehearsal, to which my parents told them that I was abandoning our family. He was an emotional wreck through all of it, and to this day has told me that until I “fix” things with our parents he is not okay with having any form of relationship with me. Throughout all of this Scott was in his room, and I was allowed to give him one last hug before leaving. The final and most notable thing, was as the cops allowed my boyfriend, Rita and I to leave, my father threatened violence towards my boyfriend and accused him of "taking advantage of his underage daughter," which is just ridiculous as we are practically the same age, and anything we had done together was consensual and reserved for after I turned 18. Another thing my parents did was go through each bag I had packed and took everything they felt belonged to them, including the laptop provided to me by my high school, which they hilariously were made to give back to me several days later as it was not theirs and they had no right to take it. They tried claiming they were giving it to me out of the kindness of their hearts, but that bullshit meant nothing as after I informed the school of their behavior, the school assured me they would be made to give it back. Another thing they threatened to do as I left was pull me out of high school, which I was assured by the police they were not capable of doing as I was 18. The police were for the most part annoyed with my parents, tired of their bs and told me I seemed to be a capable young woman and wished me the best of luck. My parents had tried to ask the police to say I was mentally unstable for the time being so I wouldn’t be allowed to leave, as their “she’s still in high school” excuse didn’t do anything. You see, as my father is an influential church figure and had friends in the police force, he thought they would be on his side but was sorely mistaken as the chief told him they wouldn’t be doing him any favors. And with that, I was free.
My boyfriend's family has been nothing but unconditionally kind and supportive and have accepted me as part of their family which has been a huge blessing in all of this. I am in contact with my father’s sister and his father, my aunt and grandpa, and as I have expressed my unhappiness at home, they are supportive of me as well. However, as my aunt lives further away and my grandpa is not in the best place to have me live with him, I have been with my boyfriend's family since I left home in October. I have a lot more I could say but I already feel like there are way too many parts here and so for now I’ll leave it at this. So yeah, AITA for moving out after I was treated like shit for years while witnessing the mistreatment of my sibling?

I, (18F) moved in with my boyfriend (19M) a couple of months after I turned 18, and my parents were furious and hurt. There’s a lot to unpack with this one, so bear with me.
My parents (40F and 42M) are very religious and were somewhat strict while I was growing up. I have two younger brothers, one 17 and one 8 (this will be important later). For context, my father is a pastor at a local church and my parent’s religious beliefs are the reasoning behind most if not all of their actions. Growing up, I was never a stereotypical girl. I didn’t have many female friends and was usually not accepted in groups with guys as I was a girl and we were kids. I was extroverted as a child but due to being repeatedly rejected by kids my age, I became more introverted. I was a major nerd who loved superheroes and I wanted to play sports. Again, for context, the town I grew up in was very conservative and my parents are very conservative themselves. Girls liked girl things- even if they claimed that’s not how they felt, it’s how they acted. However, as a kid, I did not realize this. I played soccer and basketball growing up, regardless of how “weird” it made me because I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. I was probably around 9 or 10 at this point. It was around this time my parents started having issues with my hobbies. I remember my parents trying to convince me to be a cheerleader because I would “like it more,” but I insisted on playing basketball. (This basketball/cheer program was through our church by the way). Because I was still young, they let it slide, but to this day I remember them being annoyed with it. This is also around the time dieting was introduced to me as well as calorie counting. I have always struggled with my weight and so has my mother, so they were very adamant on making sure I was being “healthy.” I didn’t understand it, but as a child, the only thing I was worried about was making my parents happy. A lot of discipline I received revolved around emotion. What I was doing was right or wrong and if I did something wrong, I felt terrible and awful and would often come crying to my parents about the mistakes I made, fearful of their disappointment and anger if they found things out themselves. They also made everything a moral dilemma- everything was about God and religion and as a kid, it really messed with my head. I would blame myself for everything that went wrong, seeing it as God’s punishment for my behavior. When I was 9, I went so far as to blame my grandmother’s death on myself because I was hanging out with boys instead of girls. This made me to be more of an introvert and my now anxiety disorder is much much worse.
About a year later, my parents sat down with me and my brother and told us they wanted to adopt. At first, I was very excited. I loved the idea of having another brother or sister. And I wouldn’t trade my 8 year old brother (let’s call him Scott) for anything, but adopting kids is part of what triggered a huge change in my parent’s behavior. Also- I had started getting older. I loved playing video games, watching cartoons and writing. However, these weren’t the things they wanted me to like I guess, because I started to feel their judgment become more clear and apparent as I got older. Now, I assume this is because as a kid, I just did what I was told, or my oddities were assumed to fade over time, but that is not the case anymore. Anyways, entering middle school, our family fostered a little girl, let’s call her Ally. A young woman in our church had told us that Ally’s family was out of the picture, and as her aunt, she couldn’t take her in as she was already a single mom and planned on adopting her brother, but couldn’t handle all three alone. So my family stepped in- however, we had come to find that her father was still in the picture and was actively fighting for custody. And Ally was a bit of a handful. My parents have admitted that they expected to swoop in, save a child from a hard life and be the heroes, and when things were harder than that they were very upset. Ally was about three- she remembered her mom (who was in jail i believe), her sisters, her grandma and grandpa, as well as her dad. She didn’t want our family, she wanted hers. She didn’t listen to my parents and rejected their parenting. This is what started to make my parents snap. I understand it was hard for them, but now that I’m older, I get it. She was a little girl who wanted her family. But they took her rejection very seriously and were constantly unhappy with her and made sure she knew it. Children not listening immediately was newer to them as my brother and I both did pretty much whatever they asked, and they did not take well to being told “no” by a child. 8 months after living with Ally, she was taken in by her grandparents to live with them and her sisters. The next day, my parents took my brother and I on a small trip. I’m not sure if it was to cheer us up or to celebrate. I was quite sad though- I had started to really care about Ally and had convinced myself that “God would take care of things” and I would have a sister. But I was angry- God took someone away from me and I was doing everything right. Why was he punishing me? Nothing made sense. Yet, only a year later, my parents were considering taking in another child. I wanted nothing to do with it- God had already taken one sibling away from me. I couldn’t do it again. In the end, I agreed and soon became attached to this little boy, who was two when we met him. This was Scott. I immediately became attached- and I love this kid more than I can describe- he’s my little brother and I would do anything for him.
This is where things start to go further downhill. Scott has a lot of trauma and mental issues, one of those issues being oppositional defiant disorder. That basically means that listening to any form of authority is near impossible for him, and causes him to lash out and act younger than he is. This is probably due to a number of reasons, as he was severely neglected and abused as an infant and his birth mother was on several different substances while pregnant with him, to the point where he was born high on several illegal drugs. He was left in a car seat for most of his infant life, so the back of his head is slightly flattened due to this. My parents are very obedient/disciplined-based parents, so his behavior rocked their world. In my opinion, the way they handled things with Scott was borderline abusive. There were several occasions where he would say he hated them (as young children do when they're mad) and they would flip. Telling him that if he didn’t want them that was fine. They didn’t need him. He could run back to his other parents, but his mom was in jail and his dad didn’t want him, so good luck with that. If we were in the car when this happened, they would threaten to leave him on the side of the road and good luck finding his way home. Once my mother literally pulled to the side of the road, placed him outside the car and started driving so he would “think they would leave him if his actions didn’t change,” but she turned around to get him. Because they would “never actually abandon or hurt him,” their actions were justified and perfectly fine. They would tell him he was acting like a baby when he started to cry and scream. “Little baby Scott, do you need a diaper?” Is how they would tease him when he became older, which just made his tantrums worse. They would tell him how disappointed they were with him and that he should be ashamed of himself and the way he acted because they gave him everything. They would call him, to his face, “an ungrateful manipulative piece of shit.” Because according to my parents, he could control his actions 100% and was choosing to act out to make their lives difficult. While I understand that this was hard for them, in my opinion, this in no way excuses their behavior. One time, Scott was crying and was upset (who knows why, but the kid had a lot of trauma and mental issues so it didn’t bother me too much), and my mother picked him up and put him in his room. She told him that every time he tried to leave his room, she would take away one of his stuffed animals. (He had several that he loved very much). Because this sounded so terrible to him, he ran after her trying to say it wasn’t fair. So she went into his room and took a stuffed animal. This cycle continued while he cried and begged for her to stop, because he just didn’t get it that she was going to keep doing this over and over and his trying to convince her was making it worse. Eventually, there were none left, and she told him if he didn’t stop crying she was going to throw them all away. I don’t remember what happened after that, but I do know that several of them were thrown away, if not at that time than others. There are many other instances of things like this and worse occurring, but we’d be here for a while if I tried to recount them all. Moving forwards to closer when I was moving out-
Now, several years later, when I turned sixteen, I had come to terms with the fact that I was bisexual. This went against everything my family was for, and I knew exactly how they viewed queer people. So, I started learning about different branches of Christianity and felt like I knew a God who loved me as I was and was happy in my decision to switch denominations. (My parents were baptists, and I wanted to be non-denominational). A few months after this, I decided to tell my parents the truth. I had done my best to give them hints, but I wanted to be honest with them because I trusted that they would love me and be there for me no matter what. When I told them I wanted to talk to them about something, they pushed and pressed and I had been trying to wait to talk to them until the next day. I had been seeing my high school counselor, and she suggested giving them a heads-up before springing that conversation up on them. However, after telling them to wait, they went through my phone and saw that I had researched different denominations and read different sermons on queer-accepting faith. They were livid. To be clear- I had a friend over while this was happening. We were watching a movie and joking about how I lost my phone and couldn’t show them this picture I wanted to. Then, I was called upstairs. I had apparently betrayed my parents and, “how could I do this to them, when I had someone over?” My father demanded I send my friend home, but my mother convinced him for one more hour. I was told not to tell my friend anything they had said and to act like things were fine, but I couldn’t. I went back downstairs where we were hanging out and started sobbing. I felt like my whole world was falling apart. Everything was over- and the people I thought would love me no matter what made me so afraid and sad, I was completely broken. My friend did their best to comfort me and even felt weary to leave me alone with my family but I told them I’d be okay, and asked that they update our friends about the situation. That night was hellish. So many conversations, them trying to understand what I felt, but not taking me particularly seriously either. That night turned into weeks of books, slideshows, conversations, and prayers. It felt like at-home conversion therapy. Eventually, I was given a choice “put my convictional flag in the ground or loose their trust.” As the petrified 16 year old, I chose to lie. I put my “flag” in the ground and did my best to, “earn back their trust” and repair their reputation that I had tarnished. The next couple months were a blur. I felt so terrible about myself. I didn’t know what I thought or believed and I became extremely hyper anxious and depressed. I had lost all sense of privacy and I did trust my parents further than I could toss them. My 17 year old brother (he was 14 at the time, let’s call him James) was 100% on board with my parents. My life felt like a living nightmare. My parents had it so that all my texts sent or received from my phone would go directly to theirs, so I couldn’t even confide in my friends without getting into trouble (which had happened and was how I found out that they did that because I deleted the texts immediately after sending/receiving things).. Everything felt like it was about me and how I needed to earn back their trust and how I was a terrible betrayer who they were not proud of in the slightest. I had gone to get a pixie cut (with their approval) and after they told me I was disgusting and repulsive and would never find a man to love me. I was heartbroken and felt so alone and unloved in my house, while I had to watch my younger brother be treated the way he was by my parents.
Luckily, I had a lot of friends and our school counselor who had been there for me through everything. They showered me with support and love and made sure I had a safe space to exist and truthfully I think they’re the only reason I didn’t do anything drastic and am still here today. It was hard though because James went to the same school as me and would tell my parents if I was with anyone he knew was queer or queer accepting. This caused me to be very very paranoid about who I was with, when, where, etc. Constantly covering my tracks, having an excuse set up and ready to bolt if I saw anyone I knew. What made things equally hard is that the church my father works at is quite big in our area. So if someone from our church or someone who knew my family saw me with anyone they labeled as “queer” or “gay,” they would tell my family as well. For the most part, I didn’t feel safe anywhere. I was constantly alert and on guard, even when I was asleep as my parents had woken me up before to confront me about someone I was friends with at school.
Fortunately for me, despite everything being such a mess, I am quite academically smart. I got a job the second I turned sixteen as I had heard the horror stories of queer kids being kicked out and wanted to be prepared. I had been saving money, taking college classes (we have a state program that pays for the classes while you’re in high school), and putting on a show for my family for quite some time. After saving some money, I paid my parents for an older car that they had paid off ten or so years ago. After my brother turned 16, he claimed it was too hard to share a car with me, so while I was away visiting a friend they bought him a car and told us that they expected each of us to pay them one thousand dollars before we graduated high school and that when we did so, they would sign over our respective cars to us. To be clear, I contributed to insurance and paid for my own gas, as well as contributing to my phone bill and money for food. Meanwhile, my brother had no job, and was constantly asking my parents for money to go out with friends. He had also taken up golfing, which as most people know is extremely expensive, and my parents funded everything. James had actually admitted to asking for more money than he needed and save the leftovers for whatever he wanted. I was also expected to chauffeur him to golf events and to get togethers with his friends, and my parents would in return give me some gas money. Another thing to note is that the only reason I was contributing to our phone bill is because James wanted unlimited data and my father said it was unreasonable unless we both contributed financially. I refused as I was trying to save money (as I would have with the car situation), however things per normal went James’s way. However, because he did not have a job, he was not expected to pay anything and would not be charged for the months and years that he did not contribute to. I did my best not to let these things get to me and to keep a level head. I paid my parents for the car because I already had over two thousand dollars saved as a seventeen year old high school student due to my hard work.
I focused on my classes and joined theater to help fill the hours in between school and work. I was much more active my sophomore year but when James also decided to join theater I retreated a bit as my once safe space to freely exist was no longer safe. I joined the stage crew but honestly that was also very enjoyable and lethargic for me and I enjoyed it a lot. Anyways, I was mostly a straight A student besides the stray Bs and one or two Cs (psychology and AP government screwed me over) and was working 15 or so hours a week. This is on top of my commitments to the church which were most of my Sundays and my Wednesday evenings. The funny thing is though- James missed more church than I ever did yet because my absence was because of work and not golf, I was the one consistently reprimanded for my lack of attendance and socialization whilst I was there. Yet because James could never do anything wrong and was a very extroverted person his lack of attendance wasn’t as serious as my own. I had one close friend through our church, let’s call her Grace (now 18F) and she actually knew about everything and was very supportive of me. I also had some other friends who really only showed up to church so I didn’t have to go through the torture alone which I don’t know if I could ever repay them for. Besides the people I was comfortable with though, I was pretty much a loner there and this heavily displeased my parents as it made them look bad and messed with their reputation. I never realized how much appearances meant to them until all of the shit that happened took place. As I mentioned before, our church is very conservative and traditional, and many sermons and lessons revolved around gender roles and the sinfulness of the world in terms fo the LGBTQ community. I consistently felt targeted because of my looks and my personality and stopped feeling comfortable there a very long time ago.
Now that more context is in place, fast forward to the end of my junior year. I had at this point finished all my high school requirements for graduation and was given an incredible opportunity to go to our local college full time for my senior year. I was very excited and happy because not only did it give me more freedom but it also meant I would get more than a year of my college education paid for by the state.
It was also around this time when I met my now boyfriend, let’s call him Dean. We were coworkers and had begun to get to know each other. We had a lot in common and while were different people personality wise, we enjoyed each other’s company quite a bit. By some miracle, I convinced my parents to allow me to hang out with him outside of work by claiming he was just a friend and saying that he was a Christian (which is by no means true). They were extremely skeptical but allowed us to hang out. We had an incredible time- and by the end of our first date he asked me to be his girlfriend which I happily accepted. I was so happy, but when I got home, things spiraled out of control. I told my parents about our time, and they were extremely unhappy as they felt fooled (which they were to be fair) and told me I was not allowed to see him ever again. I was devastated and they said a lot of very uncalled for things and but I understand why they were angry. To be clear, they knew I had a romantic interest in Dean and that this hangout was to see if we would be compatible partners and get to know each other better. They did not call it a date though because they weren’t comfortable with it, even if it was a date and they kinda knew it. So while they were on some level “fooled,” I feel that their anger and harshness wasn’t called for as they knew the intentions of our hanging out. The next morning my father demanded to see my phone. This is when I started to panic. You see, they had stop tracking my texts and I had openly flirted with Dean over text. Nothing that explicit and no photos of any kind. But the flirting would be enough for them to tear my world apart and I knew it. They had gone through my personal conversations before and made me feel terrible because of it and I refused to let them do it again. So I deleted everything. The entire conversation chain, I removed it from my phone 100%. My parents absolutely lost their shit. They had been manipulating and gaslighting me for years, doing anything and everything to keep their control and with my actions I showed them they couldn’t control me forever and things went very downhill. I lost all my privacy and was once again told how I had betrayed them and I was terrible and couldn’t be trusted. Again- I partially understand their anger here because I had directly disobeyed a command. But at the same time, I feel as a young woman I should be allowed some sense of privacy and the ability to talk to people without being constantly monitored. I don’t feel like I did anything wrong and would happily do it again in a heartbeat if it meant I’d be where I am today. Regardless of this, my life became a living hell once again, and my parents compared this to when I came out, “which was maybe the worst night of their lives.” They stripped me of all my privileges even if I didn’t have many to begin with. They made me feel absolutely miserable and awful about myself and I was monitored like never before. I would be working and receive texts upon texts of how I was so terrible and how could I do this to them because they had done everything for me and I’m a terrible daughter who should be ashamed of myself for the deceit and malicious nature of my actions. Again- this was because they could not read the messages between me and my now boyfriend. I understand them being mad but they took it to a completely inappropriate level. I shared everything happening with my friends and counselor and they supported me and assured me I did nothing wrong and they would be there for me which helped but as my home was now a living hellscape it was hard to hear it. I found a way to tell Dean about things and at first he felt guilty but I assured him that their actions were not his fault but theirs. He then asked me if I wanted to pause our relationship but I told him honestly that they had taken so many things I cared about over the years and I refused to let them take this. I did tell him however I understood if he didn’t want to put up with all the complicatedness of my family but he told me he cared for me and would be there so long as I was okay with it. He also told me if things ever got really bad at home, regardless of the fact we had just started dating, he had spoken to his family and they offered me a place to stay if I needed/wanted it. This really touched me, but I reassured him that it was not his job to offer that, but I appreciated the offer.
This begins our relationship and we were very happy. We had found a way to communicate over email, and we were able to hide our relationship with my family. Luckily for me, over the years I had made a habit of hanging out at the park by myself so it was not strange for me to head to the park for a couple of hours. There, I would leave my car and phone (my phone had a tracker on it) and Dean and I would hangout multiple times a week and it was heaven. At this point, we’ve only been dating for a year but I can admit without any doubt that I am in love with this man and he is in love with me. During the school year, it became easier for us to hang out in between classes as we both went to the same college (I am older for my year in school and he is younger, so he was a sophomore in college while I was a senior in high school. However, we are barely a year apart in age for anyone who is concerned). However, in order for us to communicate and hang out, I had to be extremely diligent and was consistently covering my tracks while “once again, earning my parents trust and repairing our relationship.” Because of course their actions were completely justified and I was the one in the wrong, per normal. Anyways, every day, I was editing search histories, erasing messages, and looking over my shoulder. Our church had a program on campus where Dean and I went to school, so being together in public was risky as my father’s friends and coworkers were always on campus and I knew I would be screwed if we were caught together. We had a couple of close calls over the months but it was all worth it because I hadn’t been that happy in years.
Now, to the day I left and why. You see, my parents' behavior towards Scott was becoming more aggressive and worse over time. They also had, in my opinion, a drinking problem. Considering they didn’t deny it when I called them out, they may agree. They would behave more hostile after several drinks and it was happening so consistently I was constantly walking on eggshells. Between the way they treated Scott, the way they treated me and the constant stress I was under trying to balance my life in fear of the repercussions, things became too much. When things weren’t going to shit, I was consistently expected to either babysit my brother and do chores while being a full time college student and working a part time job WHILE attending church multiple times a week and keeping up with my responsibilities as a senior. This is on top of the stress my parents' behavior caused, meanwhile James was expected to do almost nothing in comparison. Don’t get me wrong- he didn’t do anything, but he had almost no responsibilities outside of school and his extracurriculars which were exclusively funded by my parents. Yes he helped with dishes during the week and would keep his space tidy. But as my schedule became much more flexible due to my school schedule, my expectations around the house became much higher than his. Even though I paid 200 a month on gas, 50 a month for insurance and 50 a month for the phone bill, and he paid nothing for his car, insurance, phone, gas, nothing. So you would think he would be expected to help in the house more but no. Also, James’s behavior towards Scott mimicked my parents and so all babysitting responsibilities fell on me as they couldn’t be trusted alone together. I was rarely if ever paid for my cleaning or babysitting services as it was my responsibility as their eldest child. They would also consistently judge me for my weight, cloths, hair, hobbies, etc. Why did I think it was a good idea to get fast food? I clearly didn’t need it. They would “outfit check me” to make sure the outfits I wore were feminine enough because the way I look effected their reputation and I couldn’t be trusted. I was not allowed to cut my hair after their tantrum over it. As for my hobbies, I stopped playing sports in middle school as I am very short (currently 5 foot even) and was unable to keep up with my peers. However my interest in video games and cartoons wasn’t feminine enough and they proceeded to compare me to my best friend Grace because she was skinnier and liked more feminine things than I did which hurt a lot. Another thing for context, I have PCOS. It’s an endocrine disorder that heavily effects your metabolism and hormones, which in turn severely effected my weight, however my parents never acknowledged it and again made everything my fault. So from what I wore, what I ate, who I hung out with and what I enjoyed doing was constantly criticized, scrutinized and eventually controlled by my family for years. On top of everything else, I was done. I was 18, I had resaved the thousand I paid my family and knew I was at a place where I didn’t need them and was tired of being treated like shit. So I left.
The night I moved out was a total shit show. I had rallied Dean and my other friend, let’s call them Rita (18NB), and they helped me form a plan. When I returned home, Dean and Rita would be on their way. I would pack everything that belonged to me or I felt they would let me take, and prep the bags outside. After Rita arrived I went to try and explain to my parents that I would be leaving and explain calmly why. In a perfect world, we would have had a long deep talk, and things would have ended alright. That is far, far from what happened. They immediately starting screaming, and took my phone and car keys as both belonged to them, which I calmly handed over. Rita was there for emotional support, and put themselves between me and my parents as they got more angry and seemed to be turning aggressive. After that, my father called the police and claimed that there was an intruder in their home trying to take their child. Yeah. Complete bullshit- which to this day I’m surprised they were never charged with falsifying a 911 call. They screamed at Rita to get out of their home and was screaming that I was throwing away everything and I needed to reconsider. I ignored them and attempted to calmly walk out, and my parents attempted to barricade the doors while harassing Rita to leave. Because Rita is incredible and one of my closest friends now, they refused to leave without me which was very calming. While my parents were distracted yelling at them, I slipped out through the garage. My mother saw this and then grabbed me, attempting to drag me inside by my arm. Rita saw this and assisted me in getting her off me, and after doing so we continued to walk towards Dean’s car where he was waiting for us. He figured it would be best if my family didn’t see him for the time being as they would definitely lose their minds at seeing his face. My parents continued screaming and then the cops arrived. They were quite confused at first because they had been sent to deal with a potential kidnapping, only to see two grown adults throwing a tantrum because their adult child didn’t want to live with them anymore. That night was honestly so insane I could write three more pages about everything they said and did. The most notable events were first when my mother tried to explain to the police that because I was her child, she was allowed to put her hands on me, which they humorously informed her was not the case. The next was when James came home from theater rehearsal, to which my parents told them that I was abandoning our family. He was an emotional wreck through all of it, and to this day has told me that until I “fix” things with our parents he is not okay with having any form of relationship with me. Throughout all of this Scott was in his room, and I was allowed to give him one last hug before leaving. The final and most notable thing, was as the cops allowed my boyfriend, Rita and I to leave, my father threatened violence towards my boyfriend and accused him of "taking advantage of his underage daughter," which is just ridiculous as we are practically the same age, and anything we had done together was consensual and reserved for after I turned 18. Another thing my parents did was go through each bag I had packed and took everything they felt belonged to them, including the laptop provided to me by my high school, which they hilariously were made to give back to me several days later as it was not theirs and they had no right to take it. They tried claiming they were giving it to me out of the kindness of their hearts, but that bullshit meant nothing as after I informed the school of their behavior, the school assured me they would be made to give it back. Another thing they threatened to do as I left was pull me out of high school, which I was assured by the police they were not capable of doing as I was 18. The police were for the most part annoyed with my parents, tired of their bs and told me I seemed to be a capable young woman and wished me the best of luck. My parents had tried to ask the police to say I was mentally unstable for the time being so I wouldn’t be allowed to leave, as their “she’s still in high school” excuse didn’t do anything. You see, as my father is an influential church figure and had friends in the police force, he thought they would be on his side but was sorely mistaken as the chief told him they wouldn’t be doing him any favors. And with that, I was free.
My boyfriend's family has been nothing but unconditionally kind and supportive and have accepted me as part of their family which has been a huge blessing in all of this. I am in contact with my father’s sister and his father, my aunt and grandpa, and as I have expressed my unhappiness at home, they are supportive of me as well. However, as my aunt lives further away and my grandpa is not in the best place to have me live with him, I have been with my boyfriend's family since I left home in October. I have a lot more I could say but I already feel like there are way too many parts here and so for now I’ll leave it at this. So yeah, AITA for moving out after I was treated like shit for years while witnessing the mistreatment of my sibling?

Oh mother
This may or may not be an "all hands on deck" kinda post, we'll maybe for me it is.
Buckle up reddit friends, I'm going to take you on a brief emotional journey (for me at least)
The facts: Born to an alholic pill addicted father from a wealthy family (the kind of family that cause real trouble if they wanted). My mother from a modest, liberal and pretty rigid family. She has her own traumas. I won't deny that.
My biological father tried to to kill me 2x and on one seriate occasion my mother too. During one of his post rehab binge stints.
My mother had the guts to leave after 2 years. This left her, undoubtedly traumatized with special kind of PTSD (along with her upbringing)
I, became the "parent" from as young as I can remember I had to always ensure my mother was happy, safe and "ok". She met my stepfather (let's call him E for brevity) when I was still a toddler. He had 2 kids of his own. A boy and a girl (will refer to them as that from here on out). Girl was his bosulte favourite. She literally could do no wrong in his eyes. I remember as early as 6 years old knowing I wasn't as loved. A special kind of ache because 'no dad really loved me'. Boy was so loved because he was the eldest and well a boy (and as the years passed, the heir of this his father's throne)
It's hard not to take too many side roads on this story but, for tonight I will keep it as "Mother".
Mother worked hard in an intensive and thankless industry. Naturally she was tired and emotionally spent every day and didn't want to talk to me, help me with homework (I was a straight A+ kid btw, lest I disappoint mother). When I tried to talk to her she would give me the silent treatment and make no effort to hide the disdain she had for having to care for another human being. When I was in the 3rd grade, I was involved in an attribution (the victim of bullies because of my terrible haircut and being overweight). I was devastating. I never cried infront of any one. Ever. But that day I broke down. [I don't remember what was said because the events that followed devastated me a million times more]
My mother, who worked at the same school as me, had heard what had happened and chosen to give me the silent treatment all the way home (my teacher had explained what had happened - how embarrassing for my mother). We got home and I made myself lunch as usual, offered to make her a sandwich too. She sneered and walked away into her bedroom. Shutting the door.
I knew what this meant but, for some reason all this emotion wanted to flow out of me and never stop. I knocked on the door. "What?!" ... "Ma, I'm still very sad about today". My mother visibly annoyed by the fact that I belonged to her and had u comfortable and inconvenient emotions responded with a tight "we all have problems". In shock I started crying and in all the emotional awareness I possessed as an 8y/o I yelled "why don't you love me, why don't you like me?!".
The retaliation was brutal. She threw her work down and screamed at me as if it would be followed by a hiding. "You are too much. You take up too much space. You make me tired".
And that folks I've kept in my little heart all these years. Fir any one with a psych or similar background I don't need to list my laundry list of "issues" here.
Now, fast foward almost 30 years later, E has passed and and Boy and Girl and mother are sitting pretty.
I moved in with Mother to help her out and support her ... be a good daughter, you know?
And in no less that 3 months she has managed to give me the silent treatment x2 for over 48 hours. She vasilcilates between being a needy vulnerable child to this unforgiving, icy women who refused to take any accountability without crying out that I always victimize her.
I wanted to add context here: When E got sick it was me who moved in to take care of him. To change his diapers, hand feed him and bathe him. I am the "child" who gave up their life to support for and care for (every one else). Boy do I feel stupid.
This won't be my last post but, after everything that's happened with E's death, the boy and Girl and mother I'm just a little raw.

Imagine.
Baby wakes in the middle of the night for a feed. You get the bottle ready and your comfy feeding spot set up. You’re exhausted. Baby is fussy and chomping on that paci so you know it’s time. You diaper change and take baby to the feeding spot. Baby latches on the bottle and feeds at a good pace. You start to see baby’s eyes get heavy. Is it possible? Will baby go back to sleep easily? Will I get to go back to sleep quickly? Baby finishes the bottle and you burp them. You get quick great burps. Baby’s eyes are closed over your shoulder. This is great! Baby is going back to sleep!!
Then you hear it. The fart.
Baby’s eyes pop open and you’re met with the all too familiar poop grunts. It’s poop time. You know by the smell - it’s a big one.
Baby decided to drop bombs like its world war 3 out here. You now have to change their diaper again. After spending what feels like forever cleaning up that catastrophe, baby is wide awake. There is no sleeping in sight. Baby feels lighter and energized, ready to party it up.
Thanks big poops….
Just a story time from my 3AM experience 🙃

I 24 Female have been with my 24 Male husband for a total of 5 years and married for 6 months. I moved in with him and his mother and step father in law about 1 to 2 years into the relationship. My relationship with his mother was really pleasant at first, we used to enjoy each others company and spent a lot of time outside in the morning drinking coffee. Our relationship didn’t start to sour until after I had my son two years ago, at first it started with small things such as crossing boundaries with how I wanted to raise my son or telling me how to do things the “right” way. I’ll admit I should have spoken to her from the beginning to let her know how much I didn’t appreciate the constant tweaking of my parenting style. At the same time I was a new mother and I was trying to fit into the role of mother hood and I wanted to figure things out as I go along. About two months after having my son, his father and I decided to get married and my mil was the first person we told before telling everyone else the news and diving into wedding planning. After about a few weeks into planning out the wedding, she had sat us down and said if we went through with it that she would kick us out on the street and she doubt anyone would take us in, especially with a newborn. At that moment all of my respect for her vanished, and I never completely got over it. I have so much resentment for her even now. From that moment on there was a shift in our relationship, the house was so tense and I knew it was because of mainly how I felt about everything. I couldn’t be a mother to my son while my mil played helicopter mom with my son and criticized every little thing I did, I couldn’t make the decision with my partner to finally seal the deal and become husband and wife. It felt she had completely taken over everything and I couldn’t escape any of it and my husband felt just as trapped as me. At the same time he would let anything she said get under his skin, like saying our son probably has autism, or that he is definitely on the spectrum. My son is talking and not showing any signs of that. I believe she was projecting her past relationship with my husbands father onto me because she left him before they could get married. After that it was little stupid things such as snapping at me over certain diapers, or snapping at me on my wedding night (a story for another time). When my husband and I finally got married, my sister in law told me that night that my mil didn’t even want us to get married and accused me of being ungrateful, disrespectful, lazy, and went as far to say that I treat mil and step fil like slaves. Later on I found out my mil would spend her time over at her house amongst other family to get drunk and just talk crap about me. My husband started calling her out on her insanity and then he started to realize just how crazy she really was. A week ago my son was sick and had woken us up in the middle of the night and just like always, mil came out to take control of everything and she was asking about a water bottle, to see what was in it. Mind you, during this time I was already under a lot of stress, I go to school and take care of my son, and on top of that my great gramps was dieing and my nana just found out she has a cancerous tumor. My mil was aware of everything, I told her there was nothing in it and she snapped. She asked again what the hell was in it and I told her it was just water, I corrected myself. My husband was trying to calm mil down but like always, it fell on deaf ears and she had a complete meltdown. She shouted how ungrateful we were for everything she has done for us and how she wanted us out by the end of the month along with all of our shit. I snapped because during this whole piss match, my son was sobbing in my arms because she couldn’t try to stay calm. I told her fuck that, we are getting the fuck out of here right now and you better say goodbye to “my sons name”. She left to go outside before saying how she is going to sue and get her lawyer involved. Which is not ganna happen because of how much debt they are in and besides, she would have to prove abuse or neglect which are not happening to my son. We packed up and left for my parents while she just continued her rant with my husband, and when I got to my parents I was a complete mess because I had so much respect and love for this woman and now I absolutely hate her. I wasn’t going to block her until I saw a post she had put on fb with the caption “what I’ll do to my kids place”, it was a video of a guy literally pissing all over the house. On that note I completely blocked her on everything and told my husband that I never want to see her again and that when we have our own place that she will never be welcomed there. I want to let my husband take our son over there to visit but it’s only been a week and I don’t think I’m ready to let our son go over there. Especially with how she acted, knowing our son was sick and he was sobbing the whole time. So AITA at all? Need some advice on how to move forward from this.

After 2 long years, and a baby boy later, I have finally left. He was in the middle of one of his stonewalling episodes. He apparently didn't notice, or care, when I brought our 16 month old son into his room, grabbed his diaper bag, and left without a word. I had no plan, I knew I just needed to leave.
I have been through absolute hell with this man. From being emotionally abused, to physically, and sexually assaulted.
I am done. I lost my sense of self-worth, self-esteem, and overall mental well-being. But I have my son, and he will know nothing but love from now on.
I left him for a few months last November. Unfortunately, him and I work at the same place and upon returning from mat leave, it was clear that my name had been slandered. He was the perfect, loving dad. And I was the cruel, crazy mother for leaving him and breaking his heart.
Someone that used to be my friend approached me about everything he had said, and told me I failed as a mother. I straight up told her about the assaults, and her reply was literally "I'm sorry that happened, but he's a good dad!".
I'm currently in a shelter for women and children. The day I arrived, I found out I was pregnant. I'm currently 4 weeks along, and I won't be making the same mistake again. The appointment is today.
I'm working on starting over in a new city, with a new job, to give myself and my son a life we deserve.
Thank you for reading 💜
If anyone has any advice, or would like to share their story, it's welcomed.
Also pro-lifers can sit the fuck down. Seriously, I don't want to hear it.

Hi, first of all I’m very aware of my privilege living in Europe. The stories here and desperate cries for help from all over the world are heart breaking, bone chilling even. I can not comprehend how in 2024 women are still struggling to get access to abortion clinics or meds. And how in the US things have really fallen off a cliff. This is insane to me and I’ll do everything I can to support any charity who are trying to move things forward.
So yesterday I had my medical abortion at home. On Monday I was given the Mifepristone pill. Took it and had a totally normal day cleaning up and preparing my flat. I bought diapers, vitamin pills, pain meds, easy digestible foods..
Yesterday I started off the procedure at 9 am by sticking 4 miso pills in my vagina (this is how the doctor told me to do it here, abortion is totally legal here).
I started getting very severe cramps after half an hour. Had to crawl to the toilet to defecate, had to vomit, the full range of ‘expulsion’. Started to bleed a little..
A friend arrived around lunchtime. This is when the cramps calmed down considerably. I took a bath (not advisable but fuck it) and mentally prepared for the second phase. Two more miso pills went in. This set off another few hours of very bad cramps, like I was surfing really high waves of pain that seemed endless. Puked again: don’t hold it back, it HELPS!
What also helped: no inhibition: moan and curse all you can, hot water bottle and cherry kernel cushion.. I preferred the cushion as I was able to rub my back with it, it felt like a giant warm man’s hand which helped break the contractions.
I took Ibuprofen 2 x 600 mg, Tramadol (1 pill was given to me), 1000 mg Paracetamol throughout the day.
Passed blood and clots after 6-7 hours.
Around 20pm I was ok.
The process is intense. I advise everyone to have someone near you to check on you. In the morning I was alone and felt like I was gonna pass out and choke on vomit , so I put myself in the safety position in case I did pass out. Left my door unlocked etc.
I don’t regret it at all. Good luck to everyone here.

I had a case open because long story short my 3 year old got out the house while I was in the bathroom and my husband just left for work and so the latch on the front door broke and didn’t shut or else the sensor would have went off and I would have heard her open the door. I was in the bathroom 10-15 mins with upset stomach came out to feed her little brother and noticed she was quiet looked in room where she was playing and her diaper was in her floor and she wasn’t in there. I panicked and called 911 immediately and my husband who didn’t even make it to work yet(about a 20 min drive) long story short they already got a call that the neighbor behind me found her cause they seen her try to get in the creek right between mine and my neighbors house. There’s a dock right in the backyard of the the new house they put in beside us which is where she went. She’s on a waitlist for her autism evaluation and non verbal😔 very horrible situation but I’m not a ceackhead mom I simply was just using the bathroom and our latch somehow broke. We had the one visit with cps which seemed good but idk how often they want to come or the next steps. I would have never thought id ever deal with them. We had her checked out cause she got a lot of mosquito bites. Cause she’s sensitive and gets bit easily as is.

Hey everyone, I’m mainly doing this for myself as a journal but whoever wants to join along is more than welcome to me. I’m hoping this becomes a success story and for my quality of life to stop being haunted. YOU DONT HAVE TO READ ALL OF THIS
I’m a 22 year old female in the US. I currently don’t have a job as I have been let go yesterday due to my unsuspecting symptoms and lack of communication. I can’t keep up with the regular 9-5 jobs and it’s turning into a pattern of me burning myself out. I don’t have anybody to rely on other than myself and I can’t get afford health insurance at the moment.
Current Symptoms: - Extreme Fatigue/Exhaustion - SouCurdling/Spicy tummy feeling? - Nausea/Contractions (especially after physical activity and eating or drinking) - Bloating/Gas/Gurgling -Rancid Smelling Poop - Acne - Regurgitating oil/grease - Recurrent yeast - Brain Fog/Confusion - Urinary Incontinence - Body Rashes/Allergic Reactions -Sugar Cravings - Migraines - Cotten Mouth/Dehydration - Malabsorption/Continual Hunger - Thinning Hair - Weight Loss - Weak Pelvic Floor? Tight/Tense Muscles? - Food in Stools (Not often) - Drunkness Feeling After Carbs? - Acid Reflux - Depression/Anxiety - Weak Immune System
Food Sensitivities that have developed: - Dairy -Gluten - Soy - Gastric foods/spices/drinks (including onion and garlic) - Processed Foods - Broths - Sugar (Fruit and All) - Starch - Acid (Fruits/Vinegars) - Medications (NSAIDS/Anti-Acids)
Tried treatments that I can remember: -Xifaxin (2 weeks) - Ortho Molecular Ortho Spore (2-3 months worked wonders but relapsed) -Dietitian: Low Fodmap Diet (3 months didn’t help) - Reuteri - B12, VitD, other vitamin supplements - Physical Therapy - Fluconazole - Boric Acid -Laxatives (basically all) - Collagen Peptides - Plant Based Protein Powder - Yoga
Most of Background: So I have been dealing with different illnesses that is a repeated pattern since I was possibly 12 years old. I would frequently have nasty migraines, stomach bugs, food poisoning, and respiratory infections out of the blue. It gotten to the point of my family always saying “there’s always something wrong with you”, “you’re just exaggerating”.
When it came to 2017, I started gaining rashes as allergic reactions. It couldn’t be classified as hives even though it looked the part because it would sting like a bitch instead of itching. It would run through out my body whenever I ate every so often and that was only on of the reactions as I had a second of my skin swelling as if it was a mosquito bite but worse and when the swelling went down, it would leave scars behind.
I went to an allergist and nothing popped up on the regular tests, but something popped up on the chemical patch test. The name of the chemical was called Balsam of Peru, it’s mainly a preservative that is in your common foods/beverages, cleaning products, and aerosols. I continued to have random allergic reactions here and there as it wasn’t feasible to follow a diet that strict in a household like mine.
Then came the end of 2019, I was having trouble with my stomach and would randomly gag from November til Jan 2020. I would literally start throwing up even if I had nothing in my stomach. I went to doctors but they kept thinking I was pregnant and would say my vitals were fine therefore there’s nothing wrong. One day mid Jan, I had throw up for the last time but there was something different..I couldn’t get up. I lost all strength in my legs and half of my strength in my arms. I went to the hospital and they did X-rays and scans just to say there was nothing wrong and it might be a virus that hit my nervous system. The next day they boot me out with nothing. I had to learn how to walk all over again like a baby until I gained my strength with only the help of my family which took about a month. Throughout that time I was still feeling sick and gagging/throwing up.
This is the point when my mom decides to get a referral to a GI and they look through my records from the hospital to find out I was backed up with waste up to my ribs. They did a horrifying flush on me and prescribed me linzess. It was getting me to poop more frequently but I still was feeling pretty sick often, it was manageable though.
I get to college, it was a shit show, I start to get more symptoms, like brain fog and fatigue. I thought it was all in my head at this point and tried my best in school but had low performance when I was used to easy A’s. I began to have yeast infections every so often. I start getting into vaping, smoking weed, and the occasional drinking. The vaping became chronic and whenever I would drink I would have alcohol poisoning like symptoms that were uncontrollable to the point where a couple of times I ended up in the hospital to get my stomach to stop contracting. I stopped all drinking and started becoming a religious smoker to deal with my symptoms, school, work, and every other stress in my life. All it did was make my health plummet even faster.
I finally got diagnosed with SIBO at the end of 2021 and thought “finally something!”, the GI thought to cure it was to give more laxatives to get my bowels to move more frequently. Instead it would turn me into a balloon that was about to burst but could not push anything out. The GI gave up anf I decided to move on. At this point I had to take a break from school because I was so tired whenever I woke up in the morning that I either slept completely through my alarms or I couldn’t physically get up out of bed. I constantly was having stomach issues. My yeast infections started coming at least 2x a month. I had so bad urinary incontinence that I had to wear diapers. I was dealing with so much stress with family, working, trying to make ends meet, trying different doctors that never helped and telling me different things. I was dealing with a psychologically abusive bf. Nobody believed how bad I felt everyday. How hard it was for me to eat, think, overall function like a human being. My bf seen it everyday but refused to acknowledge that when he says he understood that his actions would always say otherwise. It all mentally broke me and I crashed hard.
This brings me to practically the present. I cut contact with the EX bf and parents. I’m low contact with the rest of my family. I quit vaping for good, but the damage is already done. I am now on Wellbutrin and trying to pick up the pieces that are shattered. It’s been 6 months but my symptoms are worsening instead of getting better. I can’t hold down a 9-5 job, my stomach can’t and won’t tolerate anything. I starve myself most days, drink water and electrolyte drinks whenever my stomach take it.
Everyday I feel weak, exhausted, brain fog so bad that I can’t count to 5, stomach hurt. The last thing that made me question my entire existence, Saturday night I was starving so I made rice thinking it was the safest thing. The next morning I felt so drunk that I couldn’t function, I was so dehydrated and in so much pain I went to urgent care. The doctor looked at me as if I was on drugs, refused iv, and told me my symptoms were caused by trauma, it’s all in my head. She refused a work note as well. I felt a tad bit better after some electrolytes from home and went to sleep for work. I slept through my alarms and woke up 2.5 hrs late (total 14 hrs). I couldn’t move my body, text manager. She called after the shift explaining that she isn’t letting me go because of my illness, bc I failed to tell her about the day prior so she could plan accordingly. She wants me to focus on my health, it would’ve been kind if I wasn’t already drowning in debt and couldn’t even afford rent.
The reason why I wrote everything I could is because 1. I believe a lot of this is relevant to each other regarding SIBO and Candida in some way 2. It will help me for my future
If you made it this far CONGRATS 🎉🎊 🥳 And thank you for the support!

Hey everyone, I’m mainly doing this for myself as a journal but whoever wants to join along is more than welcome to me. I’m hoping this becomes a success story and for my quality of life to stop being haunted. YOU DONT HAVE TO READ ALL OF THIS
I’m a 22 year old female in the US. I currently don’t have a job as I have been let go yesterday due to my unsuspecting symptoms and lack of communication. I can’t keep up with the regular 9-5 jobs and it’s turning into a pattern of me burning myself out. I don’t have anybody to rely on other than myself and I can’t get afford health insurance at the moment.
Current Symptoms: - Extreme Fatigue/Exhaustion - SouCurdling/Spicy tummy feeling? - Nausea/Contractions (especially after physical activity and eating or drinking) - Bloating/Gas/Gurgling -Rancid Smelling Poop - Acne - Regurgitating oil/grease - Recurrent yeast - Brain Fog/Confusion - Urinary Incontinence - Body Rashes/Allergic Reactions -Sugar Cravings - Migraines - Cotten Mouth/Dehydration - Malabsorption/Continual Hunger - Thinning Hair - Weight Loss - Weak Pelvic Floor? Tight/Tense Muscles? - Food in Stools (Not often) - Drunkness Feeling After Carbs? - Acid Reflux - Depression/Anxiety - Weak Immune System
Food Sensitivities that have developed: - Dairy -Gluten - Soy - Gastric foods/spices/drinks (including onion and garlic) - Processed Foods - Broths - Sugar (Fruit and All) - Starch - Acid (Fruits/Vinegars) - Medications (NSAIDS/Anti-Acids)
Tried treatments that I can remember: -Xifaxin (2 weeks) - Ortho Molecular Ortho Spore (2-3 months worked wonders but relapsed) -Dietitian: Low Fodmap Diet (3 months didn’t help) - Reuteri - B12, VitD, other vitamin supplements - Physical Therapy - Fluconazole - Boric Acid -Laxatives (basically all) - Collagen Peptides - Plant Based Protein Powder - Yoga
Most of Background: So I have been dealing with different illnesses that is a repeated pattern since I was possibly 12 years old. I would frequently have nasty migraines, stomach bugs, food poisoning, and respiratory infections out of the blue. It gotten to the point of my family always saying “there’s always something wrong with you”, “you’re just exaggerating”.
When it came to 2017, I started gaining rashes as allergic reactions. It couldn’t be classified as hives even though it looked the part because it would sting like a bitch instead of itching. It would run through out my body whenever I ate every so often and that was only on of the reactions as I had a second of my skin swelling as if it was a mosquito bite but worse and when the swelling went down, it would leave scars behind.
I went to an allergist and nothing popped up on the regular tests, but something popped up on the chemical patch test. The name of the chemical was called Balsam of Peru, it’s mainly a preservative that is in your common foods/beverages, cleaning products, and aerosols. I continued to have random allergic reactions here and there as it wasn’t feasible to follow a diet that strict in a household like mine.
Then came the end of 2019, I was having trouble with my stomach and would randomly gag from November til Jan 2020. I would literally start throwing up even if I had nothing in my stomach. I went to doctors but they kept thinking I was pregnant and would say my vitals were fine therefore there’s nothing wrong. One day mid Jan, I had throw up for the last time but there was something different..I couldn’t get up. I lost all strength in my legs and half of my strength in my arms. I went to the hospital and they did X-rays and scans just to say there was nothing wrong and it might be a virus that hit my nervous system. The next day they boot me out with nothing. I had to learn how to walk all over again like a baby until I gained my strength with only the help of my family which took about a month. Throughout that time I was still feeling sick and gagging/throwing up.
This is the point when my mom decides to get a referral to a GI and they look through my records from the hospital to find out I was backed up with waste up to my ribs. They did a horrifying flush on me and prescribed me linzess. It was getting me to poop more frequently but I still was feeling pretty sick often, it was manageable though.
I get to college, it was a shit show, I start to get more symptoms, like brain fog and fatigue. I thought it was all in my head at this point and tried my best in school but had low performance when I was used to easy A’s. I began to have yeast infections every so often. I start getting into vaping, smoking weed, and the occasional drinking. The vaping became chronic and whenever I would drink I would have alcohol poisoning like symptoms that were uncontrollable to the point where a couple of times I ended up in the hospital to get my stomach to stop contracting. I stopped all drinking and started becoming a religious smoker to deal with my symptoms, school, work, and every other stress in my life. All it did was make my health plummet even faster.
I finally got diagnosed with SIBO at the end of 2021 and thought “finally something!”, the GI thought to cure it was to give more laxatives to get my bowels to move more frequently. Instead it would turn me into a balloon that was about to burst but could not push anything out. The GI gave up anf I decided to move on. At this point I had to take a break from school because I was so tired whenever I woke up in the morning that I either slept completely through my alarms or I couldn’t physically get up out of bed. I constantly was having stomach issues. My yeast infections started coming at least 2x a month. I had so bad urinary incontinence that I had to wear diapers. I was dealing with so much stress with family, working, trying to make ends meet, trying different doctors that never helped and telling me different things. I was dealing with a psychologically abusive bf. Nobody believed how bad I felt everyday. How hard it was for me to eat, think, overall function like a human being. My bf seen it everyday but refused to acknowledge that when he says he understood that his actions would always say otherwise. It all mentally broke me and I crashed hard.
This brings me to practically the present. I cut contact with the EX bf and parents. I’m low contact with the rest of my family. I quit vaping for good, but the damage is already done. I am now on Wellbutrin and trying to pick up the pieces that are shattered. It’s been 6 months but my symptoms are worsening instead of getting better. I can’t hold down a 9-5 job, my stomach can’t and won’t tolerate anything. I starve myself most days, drink water and electrolyte drinks whenever my stomach take it.
Everyday I feel weak, exhausted, brain fog so bad that I can’t count to 5, stomach hurt. The last thing that made me question my entire existence, Saturday night I was starving so I made rice thinking it was the safest thing. The next morning I felt so drunk that I couldn’t function, I was so dehydrated and in so much pain I went to urgent care. The doctor looked at me as if I was on drugs, refused iv, and told me my symptoms were caused by trauma, it’s all in my head. She refused a work note as well. I felt a tad bit better after some electrolytes from home and went to sleep for work. I slept through my alarms and woke up 2.5 hrs late (total 14 hrs). I couldn’t move my body, text manager. She called after the shift explaining that she isn’t letting me go because of my illness, bc I failed to tell her about the day prior so she could plan accordingly. She wants me to focus on my health, it would’ve been kind if I wasn’t already drowning in debt and couldn’t even afford rent.
The reason why I wrote everything I could is because 1. I believe a lot of this is relevant to each other regarding SIBO and Candida in some way 2. It will help me for my future
If you made it this far CONGRATS 🎉🎊 🥳 And thank you for the support!

Send help. Long story short my itzy ritzy diaper bag stinks due to a food item being left in it. My mom threw it in the washing machine as she’s the one who noticed and just told me. The cycle is almost over so it’s already done basically. Anyone accidentally wash their bag before or anything vegan leather and what can I do??

Hello there! My name is Alex and I’d like to do a slice of life urban (or urban fantasy) roleplay, with a toddler character (preferably played by me) and her one or two parents (played by you and/or me!).
For my credentials: I’ve been writing since I was 7 years old, and I’ve written a few proper short stories. I can write paragraphs, even on mobile, and I don’t ghost people. I primarily prefer playing on reddit or discord, but if you have another app I can give it a go!
I can write most genres pretty well, I’d like to think, except for sexual things. I’m terrible at that. I’m also Australian, so my Timezone will be different to you.
I’ve got a few ideas for a starting scenario, but that can always change depending on how we want it. This would primarily focus on world building, realistic child rearing, and the relationship between the main cast. I’d like to make our characters together so they all fit.
I like particularly dealing with anthropological things like how people are treated, how different ages are given different responsibilities and rules, what does wealth look like, etc. I like focusing on the nitty gritty. I like my characters being poor and working their way up, since I find that fun.
I’m fine taking it slow and chatting OOC as well! Just be literate and creative and hopefully we click!
Now, before I sign off. The toddler I would like to be around 18months/2years old, so it would probably have diapers at least mentioned. Like I said, I’m a realism player and I want to be as real as possible.
I’d love to hear your ideas as well!