Mommy son cigarette

Scott Masterson had first met Scarlett at a rooftop party in downtown Dallas. Their age and the time of year were both in late springtime, them in their mid twenties and the date in early May. He had on a sharp yet breezy blazer and she astonished in a thigh length sleeveless blue dress.
“Oh hey Scott I don’t believe you two have met…” his then happily married friend had remarked with a slow swinging open hand toward her.
“Scott Masterson…reluctant friend to this knucklehead” he said with a tight lipped grin, trying not to be so obvious with his instant rapture.
“Scarlett…a pleasure…”
Her hand was so delicate to Scott’s touch. They locked eyes. It was like looking back through centuries of connection, endless days of laying in the sun next to the Seine River, or rising to Hollywood fame in the 1940’s and only having each other who would understand the glory and the pain of it all, or generations of quiet, simple country love that would bear such beautiful, happy children that would go on to raise beautiful, happy children, all with their dark blue eyes. Yes, the memories of every love story since the beginning of time was swirling right there in Scarlett’s irises. Scott had to catch himself before he stared embarrassingly too long.
“Sorry Scottie here doesn’t get out often” his friend quipped, which Scott appreciated actually, it helped him snap back to professionalism.
“Well I don’t either…at least I prefer not to.” Scarlett’s words flowed through the air like a flock of rose petals.
“Hey, kindred spirits.” Scott was really sensing a rising energy out of her, they had barely broken eye contact.
“Well, I’ll let you two have at it, I got a wife around here somewhere. Hey…Scott and Scarlett…not bad, not bad.” His friend exited stage right with a sly chuckle.
“Nice guy…so…what are you drinking, Scarlett?” Scott looked around for the emptiest corner of the rooftop bar, hoping to find a nice place for them to be able to hear each other. This night had just become something.
“That depends, Scott…what do you like?”
Oh man.
Well, as you can expect, the evening blossomed into a beautiful, long winded conversation that etched a long list of similarities between the two. They both lived in the city, had never married, and had dreamed of stable, simpler lives far away from tall buildings and busy streets. The next morning Scott awoke in her arms, which warmed much deeper than just his skin. He could feel her soothing his very identity, his future, everything. Her arms were tailor made to fit his very soul, and he had never felt more safe and at home.
“Mmm…you can stay right here…” she whispered, eyes still closed.
“I will…I will”
They both fell back asleep, into a dream that wouldn’t end upon waking.
Two years passed and suddenly they lived that simple backwoods life, way out where acres of land far out-populated the few and far between people. They took a lovely home, which happily looked over a long backyard, right up to a lively yet mostly undisturbed river. Their only neighbor within a mile was an older ranch worker named Charles, who rarely made himself perceivable. Days were spent way on into town where they both had offices. They didn’t mind the commute. Nights were spent mostly like this night, cuddled outside near a lovely little fire, with a slowly shrinking amount of wine sitting between them. Enjoying their Kingdom. Tonight, however, would prove to be a special night, for many reasons, all unexpected.
“Honey, I’ve been thinking…” Scott began, sitting up and opening his hands to the warmth of the fire.
“Oh?” Scarlett also sat up, eyes widening.
“So look, Scarlett, the last two years have been the best of my life. An absolute dream…”
She held her breath, her focus darting between his eyes and mouth.
“Yeah?”
“We have everything we ever want out here. But…what if there’s more?”
“More?” She had envisioned this very conversation hundreds of times.
“Our dreams have come true, but what if we…made some new dreams?” Scott turned and embedded his eyes into hers. He burst into a big smile.
“Scott…I thought…”
“Nevermind what I said” he cut her off, which he always made a point to never do, but this was a good exception.
“I’m ready, Scarlett…let’s have a family.”
“Ohhhh Scott, oh Scott”
They hugged tight enough to where it hurt.
“Well, in that case, we may need to open another bottle.” She said playfully, bouncing her eyebrows twice.
“Excellent. I’ll be right up. I’ll put this fire out and then start yours up.”
“Oh stop!” She bounded away girlishly, up the snowy back steps and into the house.
Scott let out a big sigh that he could see in the cold air and sat back in his chair, taking in his decision. He really was ready. He had secretly been keeping a long list of names that he liked and that he thought would work in front of Masterson. Especially little girl names. He stared into the campfire flames, getting lost imagining the three of them sitting right here, a little girl resting securely in Scarlett’s arms, as Scott had found himself, and stayed within these past two years.
Suddenly his trance was broken when, from the road in front of their house, came the sound of a vehicle approaching at high speed. Scott snapped his head back toward the house to get a better listen. He could see, around the house and through the trees, a large truck barreling down the country road, its headlights racing and bouncing with intensity. In an instant, it had passed up the road and out of sight.
“Huh?”
Soon, after a moment of silence, another sound echoed into the night. This sound rattled Scott to the bone and tore all that was right in his world into pieces. A sharp, bellowing squeal. His eyes shot over to his neighbors house, which was about a tenth of a mile to his right but still had a couple dim lights on that he could see. The shriek seemed to come from there.
Then, more squeals. It was hellish. More than animal but not quite human. Scott stood up. He heard crashing and tearing and further destruction coming from Charles’ house.
“Scarlett!! Scarlett!” He yelled toward his house, where he looked and could see her silhouette behind the curtains at the kitchen window. She didn’t seem to hear him.
He turned back toward his neighbors. The chaos had gone quiet. Not a half a moment after, though, he heard something big barreling through the trees as fast as that truck had been sprinting. Running, running furiously between the two houses. Searching, hunting. Scott was taken aback so hard that his heel had caught the edge of the fire pit, throwing him down only inches away from severe burns. He had knocked his head in the whiplash, making him groan and take a moment to regain his bearings.
“SCARLETT!!!!”
He screamed out toward his home as he sat up, rubbing a quickly rising bump on the back of his head. He heard a loud breaching on the side of his house. The patio door. No. No. Then, all hell broke loose. Scarlett started wailing and crying and he could hear crashes of plates and glasses and deep guttural roars coming from the kitchen inside. Shadows danced in a frenzy from the curtained windows. Sounds of instinctual survival seemed to be thrown from Scarlett inside. Sounds of defeat. Sounds of agony. Sounds of insanity. Scott sprang to his feet, his equilibrium being more damaged than he realized after his fall. He had to catch his hand on a chair to stabilize himself. Scarlett’s symphony of pain had gone quiet. Soon after something burst back out the patio door again and off in the same direction as that truck before.
Scott struggled back up to the house, slowly climbing the wintered, crunching stairs that led to the patio. He no longer yelled for Scarlett. In fact, the only thing that came to his senses was the sound of his own heavy breathing. Everything else had been turned off, save for a heavy and sudden dread that he had prayed he would never feel. He came to the side of his house where indeed the patio door had been busted and forced open. It laid inside the kitchen, its hinges snapped like toothpicks. Scott, with eyes wide and twitching, slowly entered his home and looked into the kitchen.
He didn’t scream. He didn’t even change his breathing. He didn’t blink. He just got a good long look at what laid before him.
Everything was broken. The fridge was on its side, the door hanging open and food and drink scattered all over the floor. The table was upended, its legs to the ceiling. A chair was resting on the counter, possibly having been thrown in defense. And Scarlett. Oh Scarlett. She…was…everywhere. She was all over the floor. She was sprayed against the walls. She was stuck to the window. She was in the sink.
Scott gently walked through the carnal mess and sabotage of his world. Long ago he had known exactly what he would do if something anywhere near this bad were to happen to him. He politely stumbled through the kitchen, down the hall, and into the bedroom. He opened his closet door and lowered a fire safe from the top rack. He unlocked it with a passcode. 511, after that warm May date when he had first met Scarlett. In the safe was a Sig Sauer P320 handgun. Scott took it out, along with a box of bullets, loaded one into the gun, put the safe back on its rack, and walked out of the closet, sitting on his bed. Their bed. Where they should’ve been laying right at this very moment, working toward a happy future. Where he would’ve kissed her forehead and put a hand on her growing midsection. Where they would have awoken on Christmas morning to the sound of children who were way too excited to remain asleep. Where they would’ve grown old. Where they would’ve smiled at each other through wrinkles, satisfied with all the love they shared and passed on to the next generations. Where they would’ve held each other in deep peace as they finally fell asleep to this world.
“I will…I will”
In one quick motion Scott pulled back the hammer and stuck the barrel of that pistol right up against his Governor and blew himself away, far away, right back into Scarlett’s loving arms.
Jeremy “Smallmouth” Bassett quickly yet stealthily made his way back to his Uncle’s house. He hugged the sides of the dark country road, keeping his eyes and ears wide open as to notice any sounds pertaining to the event that he had just witnessed there in the field next to the huge blaze. His only thought was Uncle Chuck. His house was right on the warpath of that horrible thing and Smallmouth had to go to him and make sure he was safe. He dared not go back to his truck, which would bring a lot of unwanted attention. No, Smallmouth walked and walked and finally saw the lights of his Uncle’s house. He carefully approached the front door from the shadowed driveway. Suddenly it occurred to Smallmouth that something was very wrong here. The door was busted in, having been plowed through by something very large and very strong.
“No…no…no”
Smallmouth slowly entered the house. The kitchen and living room were a disaster, chairs and tables and bottles strewn about and shattered. Bloody hoof-prints covered the floors, each of them the size of dinner plates. Smallmouth heard no noise. He felt himself well with tears, his nose a faucet that he began to sniff up as he worked his way through to his Uncle’s room, the door there also being broken in. A small whine growing in his throat, Smallmouth peaked into his uncles bedroom.
It was all in tatters. The bed had been attacked and shredded, the mattress being ripped up and thrown about as if it were made of cotton candy. More bloody hoof-prints were painted all over the brown carpet. Smallmouth trembled and put a hand up to his wet face. He didn’t see a way that his Uncle was anywhere near alive, knowing what he knew about the monster that had been in this house.
Smallmouth slowly walked to the living room, to the only little table that had been untouched in the attack. It was almost as if the bottle of whiskey teleported into his hand from the overturned cabinet, unopened. He fixed that real quick.
Soon he was several pulls deep of the only thing in the world that he knew would make him feel better, even if only for a few hours. He found his pack of cigarettes in his coat pocket and lit one up, although he was indoors. What did it matter? He sat in a chair that he had turned right side up and set the bottle on the table and looked out the back window into the pitch black. He cried for his Uncle and he cried for the world. He cried for himself. He cried for broken promises and his own weakness. He drank and drank until his vision shook from right to left everywhere he looked. At first he didn’t even notice the figures on the back porch. Then his vibrating focus did pick up on them, but by then it was too late. It was so dark out there but in their outlines he could see they wore long robes and hoods.
“HA!! COME AND GET ME! HAHA!! YOU COME AND YOU GET ME!!” Smallmouth boasted with a delusional amount of courage.
A creak escaped from the kitchen and he drunkenly slung his head over toward it. Three more figures stood there. Or was it just one? Smallmouth was none the wiser. All at once the hooded intruders from both inside and outside began to chant a strange, twisted rhyme in strikingly low and dissonant harmony:
“A sliver…of liver…goes down…with a shiver… …and gives…your gullet…to gall… …but drink…the Cider…that drowns…the Spider… …and you…will be free…of it all… …so tighten the grip…that loosens your lips… …O raise…the bottle…of brown… …and wake tomorrow…to find…in sorrow… …ANOTHER…SPIDER…TO…DROWN”
Smallmouth groaned at them in dissatisfaction and turned his bottle up again and began to chug the whiskey. As he did they repeated the chant except this time it was louder and closer. By the time Smallmouth had finished his bottle he was quickly losing consciousness. This wasn’t just whiskey. As he closed his eyes he felt hands grabbing him from all sides.
Smallmouth pulled open his sticky eyelids. His head felt like someone had bowled a strike into it. Wind froze his face. The smell of sickly, wet iron stung his nostrils. His vantage was higher than usual. Way higher. He was looking out into another field, but from easily ten feet up. He saw an old church, formerly painted white but now a flaky pale-beige. He heard the friction of a quick pull of rope below him, matched with a slight, tight pain at his feet. He looked down. A red-robed figure was fastening him against a wooden structure of some kind. His feet sat on a small flat platform perpendicular to a post that went from the ground up past smallmouths head. He couldn’t move his arms, so he quickly shot his eyes side to side. They were also tied to another horizontal post. A cross. He was being tied to a crude wooden cross. His shirt had been removed, exposing a hairy, overweight belly. Smallmouth tried to speak, but all that came out was a slow, unintelligible grumble. He was still drunk. No, this was more than that. He was under the influence of something strong and absolutely inhibitive. He wallowed again, and took in a deep breath. The smell of iron once again hit his nose. He looked down at himself. He was covered in a thick, red liquid. That wasn’t just the smell of iron. He had been splashed full body with blood.
“Now now, young servant…” the figure at his feet had finished his task and took a couple of steps out to admire his own handiwork.
“Ahh…perfect. The picture of martyrdom. Yes, you will always be remembered, Brother Bassett. You are to be the first Saint of The New Bible.” He opened his arms in his declaration.
Smallmouth looked up into the cold night sky. The moon shown down, giving everything a midnight spotlight. It was a gorgeous waxing gibbous, big and bright but not quite full. Yes, he was in a great big snowy field that housed an old worn down church. From the windows of the church he saw candles glowing, showing dark heads and shoulders looking out to him, also covered in loose hoods, hiding faces. He was hanging on a cross about one hundred feet from the old church. In front of the cross was a partially covered pit, a couple of two by fours supporting double armfuls of branches and dead leaves.
The figure at the base of the cross put his arms back to his side. He was still looking right at the drugged Smallmouth’s dumbstruck face. Even with a veiled mouth you could hear the twisted smile in his voice.
“Tonight you will help us finally defeat this legion, Smallmouth. You see, it may have the evil spirits within it, but at its core, it is still an owned animal. An animal that knows its Master very well. An animal that will remember the smell of its Master. You, my friend, are covered in its Master right now. And you are hanging on a cross, the symbol of this brute’s most hated enemy. But take heart, young Brother. Before you is our pit of spears. Yes you will attract the beast, but our Divine plan will intercept it and the beast will fall and be pierced. And then, oh dear brother, you will forever be immortalized. You will be purified in fire by the hands of your church brethren. Out of your screams and into the smoke the iniquities of all will be released. We will go on to preach your good example and your sainthood forever and ever.”
Smallmouth began to drool and hum pathetically. He could hear and understand the words of the robed man but he couldn’t fight back. His body was useless, limp inside its rope confines. All he could do now is think, and watch, and wait, and dread his fate.
The figure turned away from him, walking over near the pit and gathering up a bundle of brambles and throwing them over the last open area, covering it completely. He then crunched through the snow over to the front door of the old church, groaning open the door. He stood at the dark doorway for a few seconds in silence, and then began to make a noise. An over exaggerated pig squealing noise, high pitched and infuriating. Soon after other voices from inside the church began to do the same, their wailing echoing out of the building and all across the field, loudly signaling, calling out. It may as well have been a dinner bell. Not a half minute after they began the distress signal it was loudly answered by a distant squall. A furious squall.
This was it. Either way it happened Smallmouth was about to die. Experience terror, and then die, and not even have the ability to put up any kind of defense. It wasn’t fair. He just slowly lifted up his head and watched out far into the moonlit, white field. He then raised his heavy head further and took a good gander at the moon and stars for the last time.
“God,” he thought to himself, still having full inner monologue yet no outer motor function, “I am so sorry. I am so sorry for being what I am. I am so sorry for ending up in this place. It’s only my own fault. If it wasn’t for me being so stupid and messy and drunk and terrible then this wouldnt be happening to me.”
He began to shed tears that washed lines into the blood on his face.
“Please forgive me God. Please, please, please forgive me for all of my sins. This is it. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!!” He yelled inside his own mind, hoping and trying to send his silent words as far up into heaven as they could go.
He lowered his eyes back to the ground. He looked over at the church again. The windows were empty, the candles were extinguished. Those hooded cowards were hiding from their own handmade sacrificial service. All was quiet for a long pause until a much louder, closer bleating began at the edge of the forest not even three hundred feet away from Smallmouth’s glazed over eyes. It was time, and it was too late for a miracle.
Out of the woods, slowly and heavily, stomped the massive hog. As it marched closer and closer Smallmouth could see its white, boiled over eyes and black-burnt skin. Its jaws were flying open and snapping its sharp, pocket knife-sized teeth together in an intimidating “clack”. It was now less than a hundred feet away, the dark old church to its right shoulder. It stopped, its pale glowing eyes fixed right on Smallmouth on the crude cross. It truly was a monster. It stood as tall as a man and as long as a canoe. Around its murderous mouth were stains of red, the remnants of all that it had taken from the world on this unholy night. In its clanging jaws were bits of flesh. It snorted and scowled.
Then, in a fury, it wailed that horrible squeal and started off into a dead sprint. It galloped and galloped toward Smallmouth at a high, blistering speed. It kept yawping and howling as it cut the distance from the cross down to fifty feet, forty feet, thirty, twenty. All at once it passed over the covered pit and plunged in. In his doomed, dead eyed stupor Smallmouth could hear what sounded like paint being dumped from a rooftop onto concrete. Trails of black liquid squirted and splashed up from the pit, which had been uncovered in the fall of the beast. Unbelieving, Smallmouth saw dozens of steel spear tips standing up from the dug-in ground. Right in the middle of them the beast was stuck. The sheer weight of the animal had caused the spears to pierce through its tough skin, sticking out of its back, soaked in black blood. One spear had stabbed right under the hogs chin, passing up through its jaws and out its black snout. It made agonized sounds. It roared and roared and shook the spears inside it, beginning furiously, then growing weaker and weaker within seconds. Finally, it let out one last weak little squeal, before it went still and quiet.
Smallmouth was frozen both physically by drugs and constraints and mentally by shock. His mouth hung open toward the pit of spears, his vision blurry. He took in a deep, troubled breath and let out a moan of disbelief and relief. The old church doors sprang open, and the sound of jubilation within flowed out into the night. The red robed figures flocked out of the building toward the pit, arms raised in celebration. They surrounded the hole, getting a good look at their success and their enemies defeat. Some held additional spears and began further stabbing the dead animal, causing more black blood to be shed up at them. They all yelled loudly and triumphantly. Some danced around the pit. Some skipped over to Smallmouth on the cross and danced around him, slapping his legs and spinning in circles.
Smallmouth looked on at the raucous celebration, both in utter disbelief of their trap actually working and also in turmoil. How long now until they fully execute their plan.
A taller robed man, whose voice matched the same one who spoke to Smallmouth as he tied his feet, spoke up, sounding almost happily intoxicated.
“Ahh yes my Brothers!! It is done!! We have won!!!”
They all whooped and cheered.
“Brother Norman, go into the church and bring me the small tank of fuel. Let us send our dear Saint Bassett to the Holy lands, where he will be adored for all eternity!”
They all clapped and hollered. One figure began childishly skipping away from the pit and over toward the front door of the church.
Then, it happened.
From the pit all of a sudden a great blaze erupted instantly. It stood as tall as the cross, and it burned a furious red and blue. It raged and raged, blinding Smallmouth and making him clumsily turn his face away from the heat.
All of the figures panicked, screaming and scattering away toward the church. They didn’t get far. Up from the fiery pit, dozens of long, long, black arms, adorned with six hooking claws emerged and stretched out of the flames and latched on to the legs of those trying to escape. Smallmouth heard crying and wailing from the men as the black, razor clawed-hands of the legion grabbed them and began pulling them back, into the blazes. One by one the red robed people were dragged into the flames, their clothes catching instantly. Smallmouth could see violently shaking bodies in the evil furnace. Oh, the screams. Above the tortured howling, the sound of laughing broke out. Deep, menacing laughter, hundreds of voices, echoed up into the air from the burning hole. Then, in one extinguishing squeeze, the ground swallowed the entirety of the fiery pit, leaving it completely covered in dirt, still and quiet. Soon after, and just like the pit of spears, the old church building caught in an instant and raging fire, quickly toppling the walls and dropping the steeple into its ruins. The smoke towered high in the night sky, which had just began to hint at a pale morning blue. Smallmouth hung on his cross in utter horror and surprise.
As the late evening hours glowed into early morning the smoke eventually tapered off, as Smallmouth’s drugs finally began to wear off as well. The fires of the church did garner long distance attention, though. Just as Smallmouth was able to regain control of his muscles and voice he heard emergency sirens call out into the cold morning air. Not long after, two fire trucks, an ambulance and a sheriffs truck tore into the field and toward Smallmouth on the cross. Not long after Smallmouth could feel the tied ropes being cut loose by firemen, their uniforms easily the best red clothes he had seen all night.
“What on God’s green Earth happened here son?” A bearded man with a dark hat and brown shirt and pants asked Smallmouth once he had been lowered down from the cross and sat on the ground with a shock blanket around his shoulders. The Sheriff, no doubt.
“God’s green Earth. It really is God’s, isn’t it?” Smallmouth whispered, staring out across the cold field. Then, at the very place he was staring, an old, familiar truck came barreling out of the gravel road in the woods and through the field in the steadily growing morning light. It was Uncle Chuck’s truck. It hurried over toward the other emergency vehicles, parked, the driver’s side door burst open, and Uncle Chuck came bounding out over to Smallmouth, his eyes wide and his mouth a wonderfully shocked “O”.
“JEREMY! JEREMY!!!” He basically fell on Smallmouth in a tight, warm hug. Smallmouth was caught off guard by Chuck using his real name.
His Uncle held him for several seconds and then let up, but kept his hands on Smallmouth’s shoulders.
“I thought you were dead.” Both of them said at almost the exact same time.
“I came back and your house was a mess and there was blood everywhere. I thought you were dead.” Smallmouth weakly spat out.
“Well, I woke up and you were gone, son, so I walked to the ranch to get my truck. I was worried bout ya son. I came back home and the whole place had been turned upside down. Blood on the carpet. I just thought the worst. Then I tried my neighbors house. Buddy, they’re dead. Looks like some wacko murder-suicide if I ever saw one. Scott probably tried to come kill us too and wrecked the place when he found it empty. I don’t know. But what I DO know is that you are right here! You are okay Jeremy!! Ahhh Praise Jesus!!”
“It’s not that, Uncle. That isn’t what happened out here. It’s..it was a..a, uh…”
Smallmouth’s fried brain couldn’t even comprehend what he had witnessed over the past few hours. It was all a violent blur.
“Dont worry bout it son, you can tell me everything on the way to the hospital. We gotta go get you checked out and cleaned up. C’mon.” He helped Smallmouth up and they walked over to the ambulance, his Uncle’s arm thrown around his shoulder.
Smallmouth would be sent home later that afternoon. It would take him and his Uncle a long time to sort through the chaos of that deadly night and rebuild their lives. But life kept on. Smallmouth would remain living with his Uncle, and would begin a job working with him down at the ranch. Together they started to attend a local church. Smallmouth never touched a drink or a drug or even a cigarette ever again, and remained steadfast in his newly revitalized faith.

I got an SA on May 2nd. I'm 39 and this was my first pregnancy. A week before I found out I was pregnant, I decided to stop seeing the father. We had been done for over a year. I started seeing him again, but wanted nothing serious from it and in doing so realized that he had become very toxic, even calling me out my name right before I found out I was pregnant. After telling him I was pregnant, he pretty much acted like he didn't want any more kids and said that he was too old. He didn't say anything to me for 2 weeks. He finally came around with having the baby but still said toxic stuff. He has 2 kids and is a good father so this was shocking. I've never really been a baby person but I really wanted this baby and felt like it might be my last chance. Knowing I would need serious support, I told my 2 sisters and parents. Of course my parents were excited, wanted me to keep it but the thing is they are in their mid sixties and would be able to help out only so much physically. My oldest sister who stays very close was not supportive and said I was too old and that her help would be limited. This really hurt because I helped her with her kids, I'm even a second mother to her oldest son. My only real support for help with the baby would be my other sister, who offered for me to move with her. She stays in another state though and I didn't really wanna move. I exhausted so many options to keep the baby. Every option just seemed like it wasn't gonna work. I just kept seeing myself struggling mentally and physically with a baby and dealing with a toxic father. I started getting really depressed and had anxiety all the time. I kept telling myself why am I sensing dread at a time when I'm supposed to be really happy. I went back and forth about myself about the abortion, even cancelling it at one point. I finally told myself that if it was meant for me to be a mommy, I will get another chance in a couple years maybe with a loving man who actually wants the baby. There's a couple small business ventures that I been wanting to start and I decided to go forward with those so in the event I do get pregnant again, I can hire help.
I knew I would regret the abortion some but told myself it was the right decision. But the day after I got it, I started to regret it so much. I now feel like I made the biggest mistake of my life. What if that was my last chance? What is the father wouldn't have been ok in co-parenting ? What if I had just moved with my sister? Started the business while I was pregnant and hired help? I barely eat, sleep only comes after drinking and every morning I wake up it hits me hard. Talking to my sister and cousin helps a lot. My cousin has been through this and told me I need to start my business, get some hobbies and get out the house.
She's absolutely right but every time I feel better I find myself running into another serious problem: my mother has now told family members that I got the abortion. I'm so devastated and angry that she would do this. I came to her for support in dealing with an extremely hard decision because she's my mother. Everybody knows abortion is serious topic and a lot of people don't agree with it. I just feel like this is going to seriously interfere with my healing. Now everyone will know my business. Imagine I'm healed and in a better place and I go around someone and they mention it or have something bad to say about it? And now every time I even remotely feel better, think about a better future and that I made my decision for a reason, I remember people know now. This is so stressful to where I can't stop thinking about it and keep wishing I were never in this situation.

My 4 year old son is really interested in my boobs lol. He is often grabbing them, squishing them, or mindlessly pinching my nipples when I pick him up. I don't usually yell at him but I tell him "hey, buddy. This is mommy's body and I don't like when you touch it that way. You can give hugs and high fives but this part of mommy's body is private."
I know he's young and exploring and is in a phase where these behaviors are fairly normal. He's not upset when I redirect and he's stops when I tell him to. I just don't want dude man to grab his daycare teachers titty or something.
Is this something that needs more correction than what I'm doing already?

I (27F) have a beautiful toddler with a not so beautiful ex(35M). We haven’t been together his entire life, I was out the door when I found out I was pregnant. He’s not a good guy, legally and a serial cheater, narcissist. Most of the reason I spent a big chunk of time with him was because of my own insecurities and his kids he had that I helped raise. One of his now pre-teens kids got caught a couple of years ago trying to SA and insert into a smaller child. Fights ensued between his dad and the perp who taught this little boy this, who was also a little kid themselves. Nothing was done except his son didn’t see that family anymore. Fastforward to a few months back, my toddler has been seeing him sparsely, monthly to twice a month, weekends at their dad’s house. This was after a year of no contact to a year of supervised visits to only day visits to just the beginning of last summer the normal every other weekend visits. To note, I have full custody of my toddler and he doesn’t usually show up to his visits since he moved hours away. I had two rules with the weekend visits: 1. He’s there to see you, not dropped off at whoever to do whatever (bad habit his dad used to have with his other kids) 2. He is not to share a room or be alone with his kid who SAed another child or see their family. Now I love that little boy, he was always a good kid. It sucks what happened to him and what was shown to him but his parents did absolutely nothing, no therapy, no doctors visits, they never cared to notice a difference in him. (Pretty absent parents, I had his kids most of the time)so I don’t want this to be a slander against him or that I want him to suffer.
I find out from my very capable speaking toddler they sleep in the bunk under their brother in their new room. But not to tell mommy. They told me this during dinner after one of the sparse visits. I was livid and called their dad, asking why he would put our toddler at risk? He blew it off and contested. I told him I was done and said you can take me to court if you must but you are not responsible enough to see our kid anymore. It’s been a few months now and I’ve gotten my phone blown up from random numbers that were him, since I blocked him after the harassment of him threatening to steal them away and I’ll never see my baby again; cops showing up at my door with dad in tow to “see the baby”; actively stalking us to see if he can find an in to see the baby, even using one of his kids to knock at my door as his car was around the corner. If I left out anything, feel free to ask, I’m trying to be discreet while also distraught. This man has a B&E at my old place trying to take my toddler before. I’m done and want my baby safe. I’m conflicted because my toddler of course misses their father. WIBTA if I stand my ground, change the locks and my number again and keep my toddler here with me?
Edit to add: my toddler isn’t a baby, preschool age but I’m trying to omit gender and age in case my account is watched.

Freshly back and awake after a twelve day stint for my first time there. I knew that I wanted to go in general, and while I didn't have a firm itinerary planned out, there was one main goal that I had in terms of sites within the country. The main video game that I play is Beatmania IIDX, and it has internal trophies which are represented as badges. Your profile allows you to assign up to five of them as visible when you start a new round, and there are badges to earn for playing at least one round in every prefecture in Japan, as well as every subregion. Getting the Kanto badge meant that I needed to play at least one round in Tokyo, Kanagawa, Saitama, Gunma, Tochigi, Ibaraki, and Chiba. After five days, I had that complete, and now I have a permanent record of this trip within the game itself. There was also a time-limited event to earn points in IIDX in order to exchange them for goods, such as a hat, or a towel, or a new account card and a poster, and I managed to get that taken care of in somewhat dramatic fashion. I did some other things too.
Primary general points
· Getting Suica set on the phone and using it was generally painless. There were only two times where I needed to summon the help of a resident JR employee to clear up an issue with the gate not reading the card for some reason.
· Most vocal interaction which I had was the opposite of painless, because I continuously kept trying to speak Japanese and failing, and most people would realize that I was completely failing at it and responded with English (some with full on sentences, others with just a few words). There were a few rare times that I was able to express my intent in Japanese, receive a response, understand the response, and reply as necessary, but that was rare. Once English was invoked, I would stay with it, because that's what they were expecting. I've been self-studying the language for more than twenty years in varying degrees of intensity, and while my reading comprehesion seemed sufficient enough for this trip, and while I didn't expect my speaking to be as good because I don't have any opportunity to practice speaking, I came away bitterly disappointed in my vocal and speaking comprehension in terms of my interaction with people there. Even within the trip I could at least overhear common chitchat better, but any time I needed to converse with someone for some reason, I usually needed to have things repeated several times and broken down before I finally realized what was being said.
· You are going to be asked about separately buying a bag with every non-food purchase. Accept or immediately present one that you are carrying to indicate how your purchase shall be bagged.
· I never once had my passport requested for presentation.
· Only once did a person volutnarily reach out to address me, and it was just to ask me where I was from in English. Otherwise, everyone left me alone the entire time.
· Weather through the period was ideal. Mid to upper 70F/25C range and only a few days where it was rainy, and even then it wasn't a downpour. A while ago I personally resolved to only wear suits in public and I purchased a new pair of Mephisto shoes after hearing reports of the extensive walking causing problems for traveller's feet and shoes. My attire help up well; there were only a few times that I needed to avoid sunlight to not get too hot, and I have no issues to report from the shoes.
· I only got X'd out of a restaurant one time, and I think it's only because I wandered into it before it was ready for service. Otherwise, I never once waited in line for food, I never once went to restaurant more than once, and all food was acceptably priced for the portion and excellent for the quality.
For these per-day recounts, I wrote them contemporaneously at the end of each day, so you'll need to forgive me for some writing being in present tense and other writing being in past tense.
Day 1 - Travel, Sugamo, Ikebukuro
Non stop flight from Chicago OHare to Haneda. 12 hours. Good thing I usually don't watch movies, because that just means that all I needed to do was binge a few to make the trip go by.
Pre-trip research led me to choose APA Sugamo as my home base for the visit, and I think that it was a very fortuitious choice. I'll have more to say about it later.
Some awkward encounters happened right away upon checking in here. I was at the nearby Family Mart to buy some things and I didn’t catch that he was making sure I wanted a bag until he repeated it five times. Yes, I’ll take it. Before getting there I was coming down to ground level after checking into my room, and when that person saw that I would have been the only other person going down to the ground, they ducked right back out. I was warned on both of these kinds of things happening, so I guess it’s good to have that immediately out of the way. It would turn out that people deliberately avoiding me was rare throughout the trip.
Despite not sleeping on the trip, I had freshly arrived and had no sense of being tired, so once I had my stuff down, I went off to Ikebukuro right away. No picture or video truly conveys how crowded these areas can get. It can only be experienced in person to be understood.
I soon found Round One Ikebukruo and went right in. So dense and loud. It’s entirely alien to me to see no less than ten IIDX machines in operation and all of them in use. I dumped the money into random tickets, as I foresaw doing, but now I have to wonder if that was the right thing to do, or if it’s tied to that location. I guess I’ll find out.
The forecast is for rain so I need to be in a hurry to figure out where I’m going to go. There might be only one day left for me to get my time limited toys.
Day 2 - Kawasaki, Kanagawa - Utsunomiya, Tochigi - Oomiya, Saitama
My body decided that it only needed four hours of sleep this morning. Without doing more research, I somehow decided to assume that more of the Round One locations were close to 24 hours of operation much like Ikebukuro. Answer: no. I hopped on the train early and went to Shibuya first, but it was very quiet, so I decided to get some of the travels out of the way today and headed south to Kawasaki. I still needed to dawdle for a while until Silk Hat opened at 900AM, and when I finally was able to get inside, I was only able to verify that their store had several allotments of the campaign goods and all allotments were out. Played one round on a monitor that was surprisingly blurry, and I don’t know why that would be the case with a lightning model, but it was, so that was enough.
After doing all of that, I resolved to try to go to Chiba and Ibaraki afterwards. I figured that with Kanagawa and Tokyo likely all out, going to the outskirts would make more sense. However, there was an injury on one of the rails that threw everything off normal, and the train I found myself riding was bound for Utsunomiya instead. Seeing as how I was going to go there eventually, I rolled with it.
It doesn’t take too long to move away from Tokyo metropolitan area before you encounter more forest like areas and rice paddy fields. Halfway through the trip I noticed that two older women suddenly hopped off while the train was waiting to go to the next stop, and I followed them when I realized they found the express line. Utsunomiya has a substantial size to its area and buildings but it was very quiet on the streets there in midday. Walked a mile to Sega GIGO, found that they didn’t even have the goods tracker up. All out. Interesting buliding for it having several neon signs, all vintage and authentic at that. Getting to there from the south meant cutting through Saitama, so I knew I had enough time to make one last attempt there. Research shown two stores being near Oomiya station, so that’s where I ended up. Taito Station was immediately visible upon exit, and they have two IIDX machines specifically with 20 gram springs, which is closer to my home setup and that much lighter than standard 50 gram springs. The final hour drew near and I made one last visit to that city’s Round One. Unlike nearly every other place I went to so far, it only had one IIDX machine. However, and maybe because of that, their goods listing didn’t show everything as out. One painful language exchange later, I was able to discern that what I wanted was available. When you spend more than 3000 yen in a single credit, the game wants to verify if you really want to proceed. It does it again at 6000 and 9000. Yes, I really do. But, having made that money dump I was able to get my hands on the e-amuse card and poster with fifteen minutes left before the deadline. Mission complete. By this point in the day it was exceedingly difficult to even look at the screen so I was ready to come home, but not before getting some goods at the Oomiya Book Off and redeeming what I could for points at Round One Ikebukuro. By the end of the day the only thing that I could tolerate doing was to buy some chicken and nigiri from the nearby train station. Good enough. At that point in the day my body felt like it wants to rock back and forth after all the train riding done today. But, it ended up being worthwhile after all.
One nostalgic feeling I had the most strongly in the day was at the Utsunomiya location where the smell of it triggered past buried memories of yesteryear. I think I want to attribute it to the stronger second hand cigarette smell but I’m not sure - all the same I felt its presence strongly there. Also, I don’t see Oomiya (or really Saitama itself) mentioned as a fun place to go, but it might serve as an acceptable alternative to Ikebukuro, only not as massive in scale of human quantity. Depending on how the trip goes in total I may end up back there for IIDX playing, at least if I don’t find any other place that has 20G springs.
Day 3 - Akihabara
With the travels out of the way, it was time to keep things more regionalized and stick to one area, and there is shopping that needs to be done, so it was off to Akihabara and to see how much of other posted tales hold true. The answer is that it is a lot of it. Kotobukiya can stand to open sooner than noon. Super Potato is indeed priced for a market which wants to snap up anything cheap - I at least found Xi for under 500 and felt that it would have been a bit silly to buy only that, but it didn’t make spending 2000 on one single issue of Arcadia any better. I had no idea that Hey Arcade was right next to both of them; while it was assuredly nice to be there and see the row of Cave shooters among everything else, something got messed up with my registration of my new eamuse card with everything else, so that quickly added to my stress. Having to carry around a few hundred dollars worth of crap with every step didn’t help matters. At least I was able to help a person recover their lost phone by applying a bit of logic to the situation and deducing it to belong to the only person there who looked French, as it was on the Lock Screen. They were relieved, yes. Then, rain came, and it was more than I was anticipating, and I left the umbrella at the room, particularly since I knew I’d be shopping this day. It also turns out to have not mattered much, because I went to visit Bic Camera so that I could get myself a hair trimmer while here, and that turned into me finding a bunch of Kit Kats available, so that meant a second bag. The wind kicked out the rain and my umbrella. In trying to get as many gifts secured as possible, I found some gachapon, but it needed 100Y coins, and I didn’t need paper money in the trip yet. After fighting with maps, I found an ATM to get cash, and got the gachapon. I came home late with feeling rather crushed about the day in that I couldn’t take pictures very well with having to juggle weather and bagging considerations. There were some nice parts of the experience to be sure but between that and more gawking at Super Potato pricing ($135 for PS3 Caladrius? $6000 for Pulstar?) and seeing similar markups on other goods, I don’t think it’s unfair to say that there is a reputation that this area carries and the pricing is there to go with it.
Day 4 - Laundry Day. Shibuya, Harajuku, Shinjuku
I was so drained at the end of Day 3 that I fell asleep on the bed immediately after ending the night call, which meant that I woke up at 0200AM to a room that was fully lit. This meant that I needed to look up how to resolve my eamuse problem or else I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. I did both. Awake at 0800AM meant that I had time to do laundry while I figured out what to do with the rest of the day. This meant that I was able to get more of Sugamo in pictures, and it was nice to be able to walk among the actual residences, and do other things like come across a school as it was actually in session. With them being close by and all in succession, I figured to get Shibuya, Harajuku, and Shinjuku visited. It turns out to have been a good day for it, as the temperature was perfectly cool and no rain came, and the sun came out only for a little bit. Shibuya somehow doesn’t seem quite as large in scope in person but the crowds were definitely there, and it is much more hilly than I anticipated as well. After wandering around and not seeing any arcade for a bit, I came across a series of coffee and cookie shops and remained strong to not indulge. It was there while looking at a Disney store (which gets tourists to take pictures of it for some reason) that the song Alone Again came on through the nearby public speakers. What timing. It drove me to finally get a treat for myself, and the frozen latte (black sesame and houji) and croissant (dark chocolate filing) were certainly good, it ended up costing more than the dinner I’d have later this day. I found a seclusion with a garbage can to eat the food and not carry the trash around, then an arcade soon after, and it was time to determine if I could fix the problem. Just like an easy click, it was. New to trash. Old to new. Done. Why did it have to be this way. Harajuku came next, and the environment there was distinct. This one in particular felt like it was an extended carnival atmosphere with the single tight knit market street and emphasis on fashion. A conversation with a freelance artist in the subway actually went well enough that I didn’t feel dumb. The same sensation carried to Shinjuku as well, only it was more spread out. Kabuki street was interesting to see in person, and I didn’t get any unseemly vibes from the place. Maybe it’s different later at night. A return home at a reasonable time allowed me to go down Sugamo’s market street a bit; most of it was closed, but it was interesting to come across the few remaining stores that were open by 0800PM, and more so the one that wasn’t. Coming back to the hotel I found a 24 hour ramen shop with nobody inside. The chef didn’t want to speak and only pointed to the ordering kiosk when I addressed her. The food came through a slot in the obscured window. At least her thank you as I left was a bit more warm, and the food was certainly delicious. To match with the matcha dessert that I bought from Sugamo station, I swung by a 7Eleven to get a drink, and found a milk tea for cheaper than a vending machine. The overhead music in the store was an instrumental version of Alone Again.
Day 5. Ibaraki - Mount Tsukuba, Miraidaira. Kashiwa, Chiba. Akihabara 2.
Awake at 0500AM on my own and knowing the current forecast meant that my envisioned plan for the day was quickly realized. Reaching the Tsukuba Express starting point from Akihabara needs you to get very far down into the ground before getting out into sunlight. I was on the ride early enough to see schoolchildren going about their commute, some of them being no older than ten and going about it unaccompanied. The people of Tsukuba seemed to be particularly helpful and cheerful that day, even despite my Suica issues at the gate. I didn’t ask his name at the counter but the man at the service desk was eager to speak with me about my career and what I was doing there. One asked where I was from on the way up to the summit and another caught my cable car ticket on the way down. There had to have been a few of them who saw my doing this climb in my business attire and thinking me to be a complete idiot if not outright mocking them for doing it that way while they employed the use of dual walking sticks and the like. I know I read some reports of the home stretch being difficult, but it did get pretty close to being an actual rock climb instead of a trail hike for that part of it. A quick stop to Miraidaira on the way back to get the Ibaraki play. The way the town center greets you upon leaving the rail gate struck me as incredible, as well as for how quiet it was. It was like walking onto a movie set. I did find the sweet shop after the play, and that was another painful interaction yet again. Oh well. Two quick stops down Tsukuba Express and one across from Tobu Urban Park line was enough to have a toe in Chiba, and I didn’t even need to leave the physical building of the train station to get to the basement level to find a machine for a play. Thank you, Kashiwa, you were great. Gunma is all that’s left. The descent from Tsukuba did take some earnest exertion, and after doing that the two stops, that put me back in Akihabara about when I anticipated; what I failed to anticipate is how much that place seems to drain on me. I think I just need to eat at an actual dinner time. Once I got back to Sugamo and had food it was a bit better, but while in Akihabara and being around that environment, and not finding things on a shopping list, I found myself just standing still and watching life pass me by. I hemmed and hawed a while for a maid girl’s hour of service for chitchat, but eventually I talked myself out of it because I just didn’t want potential trouble, just like her name. Komaru. I thought about doing this once just to say that I did, but I ultimately decided against it. You cannot go to this place with the expectation that you will find anything unless it is advertised and new. If you are looking for anything used, don’t count on it being there. You also cannot go there without having a strong resolve to not engage with the touts, because it becomes disheartening to see them do their job and blankly stare at the world when they're forced to stand out there and do nothing. Back to Sugamo to find a place that advertised Wagyu but the price they wanted was more than I wanted to spend. The ramen and seaweed & rice servings were fine, but they advertised endless drink and I didn’t receive that. All for $20? No, son. I did better than that elsewhere, I’ll know better now. Long day.
Day 6 - Tokyo Flea Market, Nakano Broadway, Ueno.
The weather couldn’t have been better for this weekend. I’ve read reports that the flea market held near the horse race track will be arbitrarily cancelled regardless of what is reported on the website, but my gut instinct told me that it would occur today, and it did. Turns out that a flea market is a flea market which is a flea market, no matter where it happens. Same allotment of clothes and stuff that few people really want to buy, although I was able to find myself some neckties at least. I probably overpaid based on what I saw later in the route, but that’s fine. They look nice. I settled on some shot glasses for a gift as well, but I’m surprised that I can’t ind something ornate that isn’t part of a sake set. Seated in the shade with a chocolate churro while rap music played in the background - it’s like I never left home. A woman came to sit across from me for the sake of sitting down; she was from Holland and today’s her last day in the country. Her husband came with food eventually. She had three weeks here and went to several places (allegedly, she didn’t list them out) and I asked her about Nakano Broadway. She didn’t make it there. It’s a good thing that I did - this is probably the kind of environment and market that people expect of Akihabara now, and maybe that’s how Aki was years ago, but it’s different from this. What’s more interesting is that Mandarake has a larger presence here than in Akihabara (so it seems to me), and their stores had floor after floor of any and every kind of pop culture product that’s been made in the past sixty years at least. Buttress that with extensive watch and jewelry stores and a slender arcade in the basement, and it’s a very well centralized microcosm of the country’s economy on the whole. I actually made a point to have dinner earlier than usual this time and found a place to serve some deep fried pork cuts served with rice and soup on the side. It was enough, and very well made. The day had not ended and my bag was heavy with several books purchased there, so I reported back to base briefly and decided to try visiting somewhere else, and settled on Ueno. Just as I arrived, a festival was underway where local teams of people made an elaborate show of carrying a home made shrine to a temple. Streets were officially blocked by police to allow the procession. In following the line I came up against makeshift food and amusement stands with the traditional toy gun shooting and goldfish catching. It appears that this is an official “start of summer” festival and I was able to watch it all happen in front of me. That was the good part of the day.
Day 7 - Tachikawa / Kunitachi. Shinjuku 2.
One of the games that I've never played is Beatmania III The Final. I've played some BM3 7th Mix years ago, but not The Final. I found a location that has one - World Game Circus in Tachikawa. In looking around that area before the trip, I saw that there was a nearby shinkansen museum, and not much else, so I figured that going to both places would make that walk worthwhile. Turns out that it wasn’t a museum in the proper sense of a dedicated building. Rather, it was a bullet train engine car on the side of a building that was unrelated, and that was it. A cute interaction happened here - when I approached the car, I heard some children running around inside, so I approached cautiously without knowing if I was encroaching upon someone else's alloted time or something. Once the children saw me, they gave a hearty irrashaimase as I entered, and the boy stamped a paper and presented it to me. Perfect. Despite it not being a typical musem, the card did have some interesting content, and it's good to see some kind of commemoration for their achievements and progression in that industry regardless. They have a lot to be proud about there. Off to WGC. Maps wasn’t lying about the walk taking twenty minutes. It's a good thing that I looked it up on streetview beforehand, because I otherwise would have walked right past it without knowing it was there. Then there it was, and there I confronted a past that I couldn’t visit again. Sure, I got to play BM3 The Final at last, but my timing was off, my hands were off, there wasn’t much I could do. Along with that I can say that I’ve played on a Beatmania II cabinet, and that was better than 5th Style at least. But that was it, that was all I could stand to do. It was right there and I couldn’t bear to put up with it more than a few rounds at best. Dream big, because only disappointment follows if your smaller dreams ever are fulfilled. I don’t know why finding IKEA back in Shinjuku was so difficult, but it took a while. I bought a bag, and then I bought a bag because the other bag was at the end of the register, which makes sense. I did feed myself before getting back to the Taito station to play some songs, but it still wasn’t good enough. All thumbs. Ended the day with laundry since the timing worked. Speaking of making dreams big, it’s time to cross another one off the list tomorrow. I can’t wait.
Day 8 - Takasaki, Gunma. Oomiya, Saitama 2.
It’s a good thing that I only needed to get to Ikebukuro to transfer over to the next stop, because that’s where that particular run ended for some reason. I wonder what was up. Speaking of things getting messed up on trains, I managed to find my way on a train that needed a separate ticket, which I didn't have. The conductor found me right away and had me disembark at Uraja for me to wait for the proper transfer. The weather forecast said there’d be rain, and the travel forecast said it would take two hours to get there, and neither lied. I feel like I had more people staring at me in Gunma than other places. I will say that I found the Takasaki station area to be rather charming, with the stores that it had inside and the emphasis on the music culture there. It’s one thing to offer a piano to the public to play, but it’s another to have a public willing to use it. This location had both. Having what was essentially a Bic Camera built into the facility was a nice touch too. The Leisure Land arcade was sandwiched between other floors that had its own offering of gaming stuff, so that was an unexpected bit of a fun thing to look through. The area was clean and sparsely populated, and it wasn’t picked clean of all matter of things that would normally get snapped up, so that was interesting. Finally, I made it over to the machine. They had separate fans for each location. I got the songs and then the medals came, and that’s that. Kantou Seiou. I would have stayed a bit longer but I wanted to have the medals show up right away, and my internet wasn’t cooperating, so that’s all I could do. I think there was an Internet cafe that I could have used in the facility, but I didn’t want to deal with an awkward conversation. I did get some Lawson on the way out, as well as some trinkets from the local Gunma-chan store as well as some mini croissants and some macademia cookie things. More vocal awkwardness. Omiya was one of the stops on the way back, and I found a place to serve omrice, so that’s another one off the list. No shoes allowed inside. The value wasn’t there but the service was good enough, as was the flavor. The machines with the 20G springs are indeed legit. Back home in time for some McDonalds, and that’s another food-checklist item marked off. Takoyaki mayo dipping sauce - somehow it’s both salty and sweet. While returning to the hotel, I did happen to encounter an argument amongst two teenaged locals where the guy ended up half-heartedly kicking the girl and getting her to cry. I wonder what their argument was about. I didn’t play hero, but someone else did so enough to prevent an escalation and called the police over.
Day 9 - Sugamo, Tokyo Sky Tree, Akihabara 3, Kanda
Up early enough to decide that I should at least visit the Sky Tree while I'm there just to say that I did, and that I should visit the Sugamo street market upon its open since it was right there in front of me. I'm glad to have done so. With everything open, this felt more like what one would think to expect from a flea market environment that's operated and supported by the local populace. Small stores were open both sides of the street that go on for many blocks, and some tents and tables were set up to sell second hand goods as well. I was able to find someone selling a US Morgan dollar and he wanted only 2000Y for it, so that was an easy buy. If I would have known better to anticipate this area, I wouldn't have felt compelled to buy kitchy tourist crap that is expected as gifts elsewhere. If you are looking for a place to idly shop around that doesn't get extremely crowded and has an authentic local feel to it, consider making a point to come here. Off to Sky Tree. Getting the combo ticket for the second deck was worth it just for the lack of crowds on the upper area. If you're going to come here, consider getting a phone selfie stick or something of the kind so that you can take pictures against the windows without the structure scaffolding obstructing your view. On the subject of shopping again, this might be another area to consider visiting just for the sake of the specialty stores to be found here, such as those for chopsticks or hairpins. To close out the day, my wife reminded me to look for something from the Square Enix cafe, so that meant swinging by Akihabara yet again. Since it is within a walkway, it was a bit of a pain to find this place even with using maps, but I eventually found it and got what she wanted to find. Played some IIDX at Game Panic, which was surprisingly small and the one machine that was avaialble to play had some 2P turntable issues, so that didn't last all that long. Dinner was at a nearby place that specalized in tofu, so that was a good ramen serving with that infused. For the evening, I wandered south to Kanda to get night pictures, and found it to feel pretty similar to Ueno.
Day 10 - Ginza, Tokyo, Kanda & Akihabara 4
Launrdry in the morning. I also wanted to say that I went to Ginza in my time here, and I didn't research anywhere to go to keep it a surprise. It was a bit warmer and sunnier than usual that day, and I stuck to the main road for most of the walk, so I can't say that I found too many points of the interest along the path that I walked starting from Yurakucho station and heading out that way. High class store for high class people, and that's too rich for my peasant blood. Similarly for Tokyo proper itself, I suppose I'd have to needed to wander far away from the Yamanote vicinity to find points of interest there, as I didn't encounter anything that was remarkably distinctive here in comparison to other areas that I have previously seen. Continuing north across Nihonbashi brought me to Kanda and eventually to Akihabara yet again, as if it was a magnet that pulled me inside every time. For the sake of trying a different place I chose to play some IIDX at the Leisure Land arcade there, and I'm glad to have done that, as those machines were probably in the best coniditon that I encountered within that area. Dinner was at Tenkaippin, which I didn't realize until after I placed the order was cash only. The clerk didn't request it beforehand but I voluntarily left my passport there to show that I would return, and promptly went to the same ATM that I had found days prior in order to get the cash to pay for the bill.
Day 11 - Haneda T3, Nishi Nippori, Nippori, Uguisuidani, Otsuka, Shibuya, Shinjuku, Ikebukruo, home.
The end. I resolved to take the subway over to Haneda today to get the one luggage over there and stored, and it’s a good thing that I did - there’s no easy solution for getting over there without encountering a crowd. If anything I wonder if Yamanote is actually better. Regardless, I got that much done. With the day left to go, I ventured to Nishi Nippori and I needed to summon the map several times to make sure I found the location, as it was as obscure as it could get. Just a sign on the ground for the third floor, a stairway that led to the back, an elevator that had no decoration, a single room that housed everything. Arcade PCB kits on shelves, joystick panels in exposed boxes, nicotine odor from years past - it was like I was transported to 1995 upon entry, beyond the fact that the games weren’t as old. Most of them, they did have a lot going for SF3 3rd yet. I was able to take care of some game business in a hurry since I was the only one there. It was a very pleasant respite for play in comparison to most of the other sessions. The region itself felt much the same as this arcade - old and well worn, as in well lived. Venturing south to Nippori led me to stumble upon a shrine and cemetery just by following some stairs. Usuigudani was cleaner but mostly had hotels as points of interest. Back home to buy some mochi while mochi was for sale in midday. Then to Otsuka, thinking that I would wander to Ikebukuro, but I ended up wandering back to Sugamo instead. Whoops. Meal at Sugamo, then back out to return to Shibuya and Shinjuku at night to catch evening shots, when I hadn’t done so before at these places. Good thing I did that to get Golden Gai area shots at night. With the night winding down, I decided to have one last IIDX play at Round 1 in Ikebukuro to symbolically end where I started.
Ending arcade comments
· Although the upkeep is generally better and more consistent than the US, some machines will have hardware issues here too. I was surprised by the blurriness with some of the LM IIDX machines.
· Densha De Go on the propert large cabinet is nice but quickly becomes very expensive.
· Bombergirl is OK enough and having the dedicated detonator button that pops up for hitting the base is a cute touch.
· Chase Chase Jokers feels rather clunky and I'm not sure what the game is trying to do. Interesting side screen concept at least.
· Nostalgia is delightful and would probably find a small fanbase worldwide if it had more exposure.
· Favorite IIDX locations are Taito Station in Oomiya for the light keys and Leisure Land Akihabara for the high quality of the LMs there. Honorable mention goes to the Game Versus loctation in Nishi Nihonbashi, but that might not be worth it for a dedicated trip unless you go there first thing in the morning.
Ending overall comments
This was a life altering trip for me, as would be expected. While I'm glad to have made the journey, as to be expected, I will only want to return after making an extensive redoubled effort into speaking and hearing comprehension, because I know that I came across like a blubbering idiot so many times, and it's truly aggravating because I generally know what I want to say and most of the words that are used to say it, but it just doesn't come out of my mouth properly when it needs to be done.
I welcome any questions you may have, as that will help for me to recall the memories and have me write them down.

I had my oldest child when I was 22. I am 33 now and have three other children. I love my other children so much and their antics and personalities don't irk me.
But my 11 year old... I know this is mostly my fault but for years I haven't been able to fix it and I feel so ashamed about it that I'm too afraid to talk to a therapist and have them think I'm a bad mother and call CPS on me.
I had my oldest child taken away by CPS. Let me just state these were very complex and somewhat unfair circumstances, a lot of it was related to issues between me and the father, but I want to make it clear -- my son was NEVER abused or neglected. We shared a very strong bond. He was very happy, loved, and well adjusted. He was taken away in toddlerhood and placed with paternal grandparents. I signed a temporary guardianship thinking it would remove CPS from the picture and I would be able to revoke it and get my child back quicker. Wrong. The grandparents immediately took over a parental role, excluded me from his life, didn't even tell me where he went to daycare or preschool. Would often take him on 2 week trips out of the country with only a day's notice to me. I only had visitation if we did things "together" and I saw my child very often, several times a week. I was pregnant at this time with twins with the father and my lawyer said I could not revoke guardianship until after they were born because a judge was unlikely to grant it with such a big change on the horizon. So I spent a lot of time with my son, cringely around his grandmother who acted like his mother and treated me like his big sister and though I always referred to myself as "mommy" she always called me "mama" and I know its dumb but it always irked me because it felt impersonal and he still calls me "mama" to this day. I filed to revoke the guardianship as soon as I was in legal standing to, thinking I would get him back. But no - it started a big legal battle with the grandparents trying to keep custody of him. They of course, didn't want custody of their other grandchildren I was raising, just my oldest. The court eventually ruled against them and ordered them to give him to me, immediately. My twins were 2 and he was 5 by the time I got him back. I always let them be a big part of his life afterwards because he was so close to them and I never wanted to hurt him just to spite them. He still sees them plenty, and adores them. So many things about his behavior, his personality, are just reminiscent of his manipulative/passive aggressive grandmother. I feel like some of the ways he was raised are just permanently engrained into his personality. Some of the ways they parented him literally made me sick having to witness. Anyway, I thought eventually with enough time with me, our bond would be restored to how it was when he was a toddler and that just hasn't been the case. I know rationally none of this is his fault and it's my fault as the adult and he's just a child. But I have 3 more children now and I adore them but the oldest, he really really irritates me. His personality is very annoying, he not only irritates me but he irritates his siblings. It's like he enjoys getting a rise out of people. He can be very manipulative and sneaky. The grandmother is like that. He definitely picked up some behavior from her. It doesn't help that she's had a "don't tell mom" type of attitude with no respect or regard for my rules/boundaries and teaches him it's okay to be sneaky. It just sucks. I know I'm wrong and there's something wrong with me and I feel bad. I don't know what to do or how to fix this. I guess I just needed honest, unbiased, unsugarcoated feedback from strangers.

Use this thread to promote yourself and/or your work!
(Descriptions of fictional crimes investigated by the story's main Character Max.)
Detective's Fate
It's august of 2008.....
Max is a detective living in Chicago He checks his pistol and puts on his police badge as he walks out his front door.
He has been searching for a serial killer known as the Caller for years and always been one step behind due to the red tape.....
More importantly the chief's lazy attitude towards getting search warrants and actions approved by the courts for raids. Twice Max had good intel on the suspect's locations and photo evidence showing him at the sites.
The department needs more vigilant, caring officers and leaders but no one steps up to do it, instead they just complain about the slow progress and officers. And hinder investigations.
Now Max has decided that it might be time to stop playing by the rules and catch this scumbag.... .... ....
Starting his car Max sets his GPS to the address that "The Caller" was last seen and pulls out of his driveway as the 50 miles of directions pop up.
The killer's nickname being for his signature of calling in as he is committing the crime.
As he drives he remembers his first case, five years ago now..... ..... .....
A woman, Joane Taylor, was found dead in an alleyway after going out for the night. She showed no signs of struggle leading the police to believe she had drank to much and expired from alcohol poisoning.... ...
The death was written off as a "party gone wrong".... That is until several more were found and the coroner decided on a whim to test for other substances.
Once it came out that the deaths were possible murders...
The calls started coming in, almost like the suspect wanted credit before revealing himself....
Then ways of the deaths began changing as the Serial Killer explored his twisted desires searching for his preferred method.
The last case being a young woman found stuffed in a dumpster after the killer apparently got scared off.... Max will never forget it.... .... ....
The GPS finishes and the car beeps its final direction, taking an exit off the highway. Ramps out here are always confusing... Which is funny since he has driven this one for five years now...
The chief says he should sit this one out but he can't... The latest victim 3 months ago.
Marie Spelner, a waitress out on her smoke break talking to her spouse on the phone.
Survived by her husband, no children or living relatives. ....
Max Spelner turns into the driveway of the house he was directed to... Stepping out of the car he walks up and knocks on the door. Looking at the house he knows the family must be doing well if they live here.... Raising his hand to knock again he hears a scream from inside....
A second later the door is answered by a middle aged butler holding a tray with wine glasses on it... "Hello Sir, I'm sorry but this house does not wish to partake in any offers at this time..."
Max calmly says. "I'm not selling anything."
The butler looks confused for a moment before his eyes dart over Max's shoulder seeing his unmarked cruiser and he nods.
Looking past the butler Max sees that a woman is cleaning up after their dog.
"Have you seen this man?" Says Max holds up a picture of the one suspected of being the killer.
The butler gives it a once over before replying. "I'm sorry sir, no I have not." His tone sounds like he is lying... ....
"Are you sure?" The detective asks.
"I would not lie about something like that, sir." He states, his eyes not meeting Max's.
The woman calls from inside "Fletcher, who are you talking too?"
"Some man asking about a killer" he calls back.
"The killer is an inside job!" The woman quickly states.
"What?!" Max says.
"The Killer, it's an inside job." She says again, louder this time. In the same Max also hears a child begin to cry in another room.
"We should start from the beginning, it will be easier to explain trust me." The woman says.
'She seems to know what is going on....
"How do I know your story holds water?" He asks out loud.
"Oh I wouldn't lie. I have been following the case myself and it seems like an inside job to me." She states, somehow sounding hurt.
"Is there anyone else in the house besides you two and the baby?" He asks noticing the baby isn't crying anymore.
"Just Fletcher and I live here, the baby is my cousins but he just stays the night sometimes." She replies.
Max draws his gun and enters the house upon reasonable suspicion of an emergency in progress or suspect on the premisses as the man seems to be deceiving.
While the woman still seems unconcerned that the child is now silent.
He pushes past the butler and rushes towards the area he heard the crying. passes the entryway, the dinning room, and a kitchen before finally finding a child in a playpen.
"There there..." He says in a sing song voice picking up the child. "I'm officer Max, do you know where your mommy is?"
The child just cries louder.
Then he sees the man from the photo walk out of the bathroom, upon seeing him he bolts for the door and Max sets the child down gently then gives chase.
He runs through the house, following the man as he can hear the woman screaming at him to stop but he doesn't."
"Stop or I'll shoot." The man doesn't even break stride.
Instead he runs out of the front door and jumps into his car.
Furious that the man might escape he fires at the car as it drives away.
The back window shatters and he hopes he got his tire, but he doesn't wait to find out as he runs to his car and initiates a pursuit....
He flips on his concealed lights in his cruiser as he reverses down the drive and into the street.
The suspects car is fast but he manages to keep up with it weaving in and out of traffic as people move over for the siren.
As they approach a red light there is heavy traffic in the intersection..... ....
The suspect slams on his brakes and Max's cruiser only just stops short of hitting it. Jumping out the Detective points his firearm at the vehicle running up beside seeing heavily tinted windows.
"Get out of the car and on the ground now!!" He shouts as he moves to the driver's side door.
After seeing no response....
Max throws open the door and the driver is gone with the passenger side open.
He quickly runs to the other side catching the man trying to sneak off tackling him to the ground and then takes his arms putting them behind his back.
Max grabs his radio and calls it in as the man cries.
As he is waiting he hears a noise that sounds like static.....
"Wrong guy moron.. Did you ever stop to think I wanted you close for this one. That I planned everything...Even framing the pothead..... I almost lost interest until you pulled in the driveway... The attic is kinda cramped tho... I think I'll go carve some meat. Maybe graduate to other things to. I'm not sure yet. Lets see if you can catch me before......" A familiar voice says over the radio then cuts off... ...
Max looks at the man on the ground. "Why did you run from me?" He asks.
"Cause I have like 19 grams of marijuana in my pocket." He replies...
"Do you know how stupid that is?! I don't care about that I'm looking for a killer."
Before he can answer Max hears the woman from the house screaming for her life and a child's cries on his radio.
Then from below Max. "He's in the house, he's in the house! My mom and the baby!" The man on the ground says crying.
Max uncuffs him and runs to his car heading back to the house as he lays down rubber on the road... ... ...
As he approaches and pulls into the driveway he notices the front door is open.
"Hold on I'm coming!" Max screams jumping out of his cruiser...
He runs into the house finding the woman's body arriving too late. Moving over to her he checks for a pulse but she is gone, a large gash in her neck.
As he stands up he slips in a fluid but gains his balance and tries not to think about what it is....
He rushes to the room the baby was in finding the play pen empty. He leaves the room searching the rest of the house and still doesn't find the child.
"Where are you!!!" He calls out....
"This is the Callers first kidnapping and the media would eat up the fact I failed to stop the man." He thinks as he blames himself.
Sirens begin to blare in the distance as backup is about to arrive... ... ...
"There's a woman dead and a baby missing! The woman is in the dinning room straight ahead of the front door, Hurry!" He yells into his radio...
Looking over at the mother seeing a piece of paper on the floor.
He walks over to it seeing writing.
"So close... Looks like I'm a kidnapper now.... Good luck finding me.... And... I so enjoyed killing that sweet wife of yours. Might do it that way again. Not to the kid tho....later Max. Ps. This game is so fun.." It says.
"He was here..." Is all he can muster as the team enters.
"He was right in this house and I missed it because her son freaked over weed and ran..." He says as another officer speaks to him gently.
"Don't beat yourself up Detective, it's not your fault. He must have hid before you got her and left after you arrived." The words do little to comfort him "First day back on the job and the killer escaped taking a child..." He says as he walks away.
The chief arrives in his new lexus with a screeching of rubber as he lurches to a halt.
He quickly exits and leaves his door hanging open as he rushes into Max's face....
"I told you to stay away from this case MAX!!!!....(takes a breath)...
"If I catch any flak from my superiors, I won't suspend you.... That'd be to easy. Desk duty and an entry level demotion. The new guy will have a higher rank than you if things go my way.... Now get outta my sight...". "(Sighs)...
"This job is gonna be the death of me..." He says walking away from Max and towards the Coroner's van..... ..... .....
On the way home the detective stops by the store close to his house which is unlike him because he usually follows the same routine.
He nears the front door and he hears a kitchen timer ding loudly from behind him as his car explodes throwing him through the storefront windows as they are blown out..... .....
Alarms around the lot and others nearby create a cacophony of noise. His head pounding as his body aches, Max pushes himself up and collapses as the store manager runs over to him telling him not to move as he dials 911.... .... ....
Waking in the hospital Max recalls the feeling of the Shockwave as he flinches in phantom pain.
"Who woulda thought its like holding a ringing metal bat that hurts your hands but all over and way more intense." He thinks.
He suddenly feels tired and falls asleep.... .... .... ....
The next time he wakes, he sees a breaking news story that Jane Saltani is reporting on....
"Young toddler Accidently Shoots Serial killekidnapper ending his life and Alerting residents in the Area." The news anchor says.
Sighing to himself Max thinks about how crazy that is and laughs.
Tho he really wanted to bring the guy in. He closes his eyes to get some much needed sleep as his door opens.
Max looks up to see a man with a silenced pistol pointed at him.
"Hm. Now they think I'm dead. Funny how they just assume they got the right guy. Just like.... You did Detect... ....." Max hears but then hears no more as his end comes at just over the speed of sound....
The Caller leaves the hair of another intelligent convicted murderer that he obtained in a spot that's believable and quickly leaves.....
He disables the surveillance system and sends a virus out to any device that has received video data from the hospital.
Erasing and corrupting the systems. Leaving a master hackers finger prints on a glass from his home....
"Sorry, no witnesses." He says to the security guard as he fires... ..... ..... .... ....

Got pregnant (F22) with my “boyfriend” (M22 we honestly just co parent and live together) haven’t been a real couple since like December ; we found out he left me. Barely spoke during the pregnancy I made a plan to give the baby up. I told him after I had the baby that he needed to come up and sigh the papers to give him to the family I chose. He decides to ask his family to come to my room so we all can “make a decision”. We decided to keep him and make it work. That’s where I fucked up. He got kicked out the military for drugs and I’m still in. I pay for everything he literally has to worry about nothing. Anyways Every argument he runs home to live with his parents (something he withheld from me until we found out I was pregnant) and him and his mother have that weird mommy son boyfriend shit going on and today he said “I’m starting work at my parents city on Monday ” (3 hours away) where he is paid $250-350a week under the table so it’s not even a legit job. I am military and can’t do last minute childcare. He made no effort to find a job where we are despite having me send him jobs. I told him that if he does that he’s not welcome back into my house and he will only get visitation because he is a loser for actively choosing to abandon his kid. Am I overreacting for this?
My post was removed for AITA just wanted for more opinions!

Pretty much a few years ago I met my current bf and father of our 8 month old daughter. When I first met him, it was on accounts of me and my ex moving in because they were best friends and We had nowhere to go. Without going into detail one thing lead to another and I jumped from my ex to my current bf due to the circumstances. My ex moved out and it was me, my bf and his 6 siblings and his dad just recently came back into the picture. My bfs ex would always make sick comments and also really really fucking hated this woman. At first I didn’t rlly understand why, I knew it was bc her and her son were close but I didn’t think anything of it. This lady took me in when I had nothing and was very very supportive towards me for a while. But then slowly as the relationship progressed I would get severely paranoid that this woman was just glad that I wouldn’t complain about how close she was to her son, and so she was just putting up with me. Okay, whatever. But the malicious energy I would feel whenever it was me her and my bf and the way they are so touchy and affectionate it’s just so weird and I’m not used to seeing family like… that close. They play fight and they’re just so close and it disgusts me whether the intent is negative or not. I don’t like her, I stopped liking this woman a long time ago. After I got pregnant she and her children moved out 4 houses down. So when I finally think I can get peace, I get blown away by the fact that she’s still right next door and constantly fucking asking me or my bf to come down and hang out. It annoys me that my grown boyfriend has to always do what mommy wants and is afraid to put down his foot and say the word NO to this woman, I don’t feel like someone im with should need to be around their family all the time and have to consistently see them bc as a woman who’s family ain’t around like that physically, it’s exhausting and I am jealous. Idc if I sound like a child over this shit because I AM jealous, I DONT like this bitch for many many many other reasons that I don’t feel like adding to this post, she has ruined a lot for me and my bf because I can’t see a future with someone if I know his annoying ass mom always needs to be some type of priority. Idk what to do because I don’t think I can get past this. She’s weird and treats him like a second husband and it’s annoying asf. She acts like a poor helpless woman who desperately needs her sons saving. Like I swear I feel like that bitch genuinely wants to fuck my bf and I can’t stand the thought of having to deal with this for long. It’s gotten to the point I’ve avoided going there at all costs unless I absolutely need to and here and there out of the blue to raise suspicion towards my hate for her. Woman, give it a fucking rest!!!

i can even feel it, the aura, the way she looks at me with disgust, from the moment she wakes up i feel uneasy, in my own room i feel uneasy, as if she’s watching me, i can feel not being welcome, being hated by my own mother. i dont want to stay, i really want to leave, i’d rather be homeless than live with this fucking narcissist any second. she wishes i was never born, she wishes i’d disappear, she wishes she never i was never even conceived, i can see it in her eyes.
this is the first time i call my mother that, i have never insulted her, never yelled at her or even raised my voice, in every “argument” it’s her screaming at me or saying very harsh things and me sitting there, taking it. but calling her that word after years of torment feels good.
she never smiles at me, i dont remember the last time she did, everytime i try to talk sweet to her and show her i love her, she says “i dont talk all lovey dovey” and implies she only knows how to communicate in insults and arguing.
im 18, im supposed to be in college, i cant afford it. i dont know what to do. do i apply to a college abroad? would they take me with my weak passport? my father died in august 2022, things went downhill from there, she became more bitter, she became harsh, and while i understood at first, it is taking a toll on me and i cant take it anymore.
she now torments me for the smallest of things.. like one time i came back from the gym, poured a cup of water, then poured another cup of water because i was thirsty and i had finished my water at the gym. she yells “who drinks like that!!? drink like a normal human.” and while that seems like just a minor inconvenience, the issue is it happens with every small action i make, over and over, daily, every single muscle i move, she has a negative comment about, and that was when i told her to just give me a fucking break.
how about that one time when i was 15, i came out to her about the fact that i was raped as a child, and couldnt say anything because of the extreme fear, and as any normal mother does, she had zero empathy and her eyes and just said “well why didnt you defend yourself?”. im not going to say how that made me feel. im just going to let you guess.
today i came back from friday prayer and got the car washed like she asked, she sees i came home wearing the home sandals instead of the main sandals i wear to go out, both normal sandals, but one is plastic sort of like a croc. she glares at me, raises her voice and says “is this what you wear to friday prayers? wont you dress like a normal person?” implying people were going to stare at my sandals which are taken off during prayers and judge me. i just cant. and when i told her i couldnt find my main sandals and was in a hurry, she said “fucking look for them, i put them right here in this drawer, use your head.”
when i forget small things she mentions, she gets pissed and talks to me in that same tone she always does, and that same glare, even though she knows im riddled with ADHD, but she doesnt care enough to learn a single thing about her son’s mental health problems, not the ADHD, not the BPD, not the chronic depression, all of which im not being treated for, and all of which i have been diagnosed with, all of which she was told and warned about.
did i mention, this one time? i had an insane tooth infection, the right side of my face was VERY swollen for days, i was in the worst pain of my life, i was terrified, and having already experienced an extreme panic disorder and health anxiety, god knows i was afraid of sepsis, and when my blood test results came back and i saw my white blood cell count was high, god forbid.. i panicked. i couldnt control it. i wanted to go back to the dentist, just to let him look at the report and tell me im okay, which was for free, in a dentist that was very close to my home, she didnt like that. she didnt like that i was riddled with health anxiety after spending 30+ minutes on top of my dad’s dead body trying to revive him, she couldnt accept that i had been traumatized. she kicks me out. so here i am, on the streets, face swollen, sleeping and shitting on the street with a fever and diarrhea, wiping my ass with pieces of cardboard, hoping to god nothing bad happens to me because that infection was sucking the power out of me.
she wants me to provide, im trying to provide, im trying to pay her back for the money she spent on me ever since i turned 18, but i JUST got qualified legally for work, and im JUST now able to even look for work, yet she has been shaming me for it before i was legal. so for now, until i find a job, im getting money from my ex, which im not so proud of, but so far i sent her 300 dollars hoping she shuts up, and 300$ is a good amount in my country. but she questions how i got that money, she thinks im selling my body for it. which honestly, im very willing to do at this point, i have a nice body and even though males are not as valuabe in that field, if it makes me money until a place im applying at accepts me, i dont have any morals and i’ll happily do it.
about the money she spent on me, usually food, and gym subscriptions, and an amount of money she spent to get me my driver’s license (which was in her best interest, by the way), did you know that i got nothing of my father’s inheritance? she took it all, no, i didnt even look at it, i didnt ask for it, and she sometimes even reminds me that i didnt deserve it, even though i never fucking had it, and it was a GOOD portion of the inheritance too.
and by the time i was 18, she claimed i blew all my side of the money on going to the fucking psychiatrist to stop me from killing myself, and gym memberships, she loves to talk about some “legally you owe me”, but arent you supposed to spend that much until im 18? legally speaking, since we wanna go that way. legally speaking, dont you OWE me that money? i didnt spend any of it, YOU did, and you’re way more happy to let me drive 140kms to get you packs of cigarettes that are cheaper that arent being sold here, spending a shit ton of gas money, every two weeks, rather than letting me see my girl who by the way offers to pay for any inconvenience for her because she knows how my mother is. but no, its not just the money that bugs her, 25 minute drive to see my girl is too much, but a 2 hour round trip just to spend more money on cigs isnt, right? no, she doesnt want me to be happy, she KNOWS she doesnt pay anything out of her own pockets when i go see my lady, she KNOWS seeing her gets me out of that depressed state, but she doesnt want me to, and when the money excuse gets old, she says “maybe 6 months ago i would have been happy for you, but you simply ruined it, your actions did this”.
actions, she says, or basically, my lack of action, yes mother, im terribly sorry i was born in a country that will not allow me to work until a month ago, im sorry that i couldnt apply to college because i cant afford it, and because i knew nothing about life, lived in the middle of nowhere my whole life and didnt start learning how the world works until i turned 17. you didnt teach my how to ride a bike, you didnt teach me how to defend myself, you didnt teach me how to speak english, you didnt teach me how to fucking swim, you didnt introduce me to any physical activity and fucking locked me at home my entire childhood, with just internet access, until i became overweight as a child, and until i took matters into my own hands and changed that. and guess what? my other two sisters? 9 and 16, one is overweight and the other is OBESE since she was a child. great fucking parenting, leaving a 9 year old glued to an ipad because you never knew how to be a mother. and when i tried to take matters into my own hands and restrict the 9 year old from spending 12 hours plus a day on the ipad doing god knows what with god knows who, so she can have real fucking friends, real life fucking experiences, “give it back. im her mother, not you”. well you’re the reason she’s fat, you’re the reason we all got bullied. maybe introduce the poor kid to a fucking sport? fuck.
and guess what? i kind of hated my dad too. he always called me useless, always had that same fucking stare in his eyes, always yelled at me to shut up and be a man if i ever cried as a kid, so much so that i WISH he beat me, i wish they beat me as a child rather than getting neglected, after my face got swollen at 5 years old from being slapped hard by him in a barbershop, they were too scared to do anything else because of the consequences it would cause them. so they decided to neglect. i wish you fucking taught me how to fight, i see all these dads teaching their boys how to defend themselves and you never taught me how to throw a punch, i had to do it all myself, i had to workout myself, i had to fill that lack of sense of masculinity up by getting as big and scary as possible, i had to teach myself how to not be a fat slob like you taught me anymore, because guess what? they were both fat slobs themselves, no fucking wonder they didnt know how to show their kids healthy habits.
if you think that these stories are just minor inconveniences, i agree with you, but imagine it happening every single day, every single second you’re at home, for years, it slowly builds up and becomes unbearable.

Where do I begin. For the purpose of this post, I will use fictious names and locations as it is ongoing, and out of respect (even though she doesn't deserve any)
My name is Daniel. I am 35 years old, and i am dying. I have a disease called systemic sclerosis. I am currently on a supplemental disability plan, until I get approved for SSI (social Security). Until then, my income is about 4K a month. I own a home but after child support and bills, NOT INCLUDING gas, food, haircuts, medical appointments, and or emergencies like my fridge just broke. (which i never go out) I am left with $260 that has to last me a month. I also have three children who I have to take care of half the time per the 50/50 agreement.
Recently, I found out my oldest, (who is 13) is not biologically mine. I decided to look into it as I had concerns for a while since my divorce as her cheating was very rampant. I also had caught her in 2017 with a man in my house, which is what prompted the divorce. But FL being a no fault state, doesn't matter. I also had to pay child support since the beginning and WHILE LEGALLY Married since 2010 because she had applied for financial support like food stamps and government assistance then. I know what your thinking. Why didnt you stop it then? I tried. You cant take yourself off child support. I also never grew up with a father and wanted that two-parent household. I don't run from responsibilities, like he did. Its how I was raised. Anyways, I married her, tried to do the right thing, she lied numerous times. she never worked, and I worked 90 plus hours a week. To look into her cheating, was impossible at the time as I was never home. and to busy providing for my family.
fast forward to now. My disease started to become worse and over three years; it didn't reveal itself until last year fully to actually pinpoint what this was. for instance, I had in 2019 pain behind my eyes and horrible headaches to the point that I thought I had MS. following year, I had trouble swallowing for 3 months. next year itching in the skin for three months. But prior, I had visited various doctors to see what was going on, each time a flare up then would last 3 to four months, which again, when you don't understand what's going on, you need to take time off to go see doctors, run tests, but this illness was and still is very elusive. with that being said I had 5 jobs since its first flare up till last year to continue to support my family and to pay child support. as of last year. I'm having trouble moving on certain days, breathing and acid reflux and muscle atrophy. (disease progression) especially when this is going on, it worsens everything as this is flared up. I was working under the table to try and make ends meet as I was paying child support still. I should add that the child support with 50/50 custody was $1029 for three kids cause I was making six figures at the time of divorce in 2018. Last year however, I couldn't work anymore, and filed for disability.
In june of last year, I had asked Susan, to get the children school supplies, (which she never does) as I was still paying at the time $1029 in child support. She said she didnt have the money despite now making 70k and her new BF living with her and is working whom she cheated on me with. With me working under the table, I bought them clothes, haircuts, school supplies (ive done every year) but then, I noticed she went on vacation to puerto rico and got a giant leg tattoo. At the time, I had already known what I had, and I asked myself why the heck am I doing this? So i turned to an attorney to get it modified. Again, this is June 20th to be exact of last year. My lawyer, stated that this was only going to be a 90 day turn around for the temporary modification then we will go for the final.
Since then, I have gone for a DNA test. I had to know. I am dying. I wanted to know. And you may judge me for this. but i have filed for disablement for paternity, meaning I am removing myself from the birth certificate. However, in the state of Florida, a mother can deny this and so can the courts. before you judge me, I have many reasons none of which have to do with him other then his mental disability (Aspergers) This illness, as days go by takes more and more from me. As previously aforementioned, I am left with 250 a month. I cannot go get a drs appointment pay for groceries or start planning my funeral which I will start making payments on soon. He also eats three times the amount that we all collectively do (Not his fault) but I have paid enough both mentally and financially. He also has trouble communicating as my suspicions is, that he was born of incest (gross) which is why I was 'chosen' to be his father at the time. Before you ask how do you know? Lets just say she had an uncle 'leave' during that time.
anyways, in February, I had the temporary modification hearing for child support and needless to say it was a circus. My doctor was subpoenaed to be there by my attorneys request to better my argument, even though I felt we didn't need her, she advised me to have my doctor there. Well, he attorney attacked my doctor and me for an hour and 40 mins when the court case was only supposed to go for an hour. He said "you saw another dr Max so and so and they said it was all in your head" (again I had flare ups on a illness that hadnt revealed itself correctly since last year). So there argument was that I was doctor seeking to avoid child support. After I have paid for 13 years never missing a payment. Her lawyer also targeted people who are living with me. Now I'll admit that I said they were friends which is true but how else can I pay for my attorney? Cant work, cant sell drugs, cant rob a bank? So they want to take there income into consideration. BS. She also hired a private investigator to watch me exercise outside and stated that because I can exercise, I can work..... Ok. Where's the 23 hours of the rest of the day watching me in pain. or when do you have me on video of a flare up from this terminal illness? (that's what I wanted to say)
Although I was granted the temporary modification, of $209, I left the court thinking wow, this woman can cheat, commit paternity fraud, not give two craps about our children, live with her mom in a section 8 home, and here I am doing whatever I can and I've done nothing wrong but be lied to and this is how my government, my country treats me? No wonder men my age dont have children this is insane. The paternity issue wasn't even brought up they said that this isnt the place for this and that the disestablishment will be another trial for those wondering. My lawyer only spoke for 5 mins. Asking her about her income cause thats the only thing that has changed since 2018 since she didnt work at the time. Other than that, it was an attack on me and my disease arguing my ability to work.
after leaving that, I didnt eat for 96 hours. I have since been crying nonstop. Compilating suicide. I am already heart broken about my son not being mine. Sure does a terminal illness make me said, no question everyday. But a life wasted on another? Cause I decided to be a man and take up responsibility? thats soul crushing. And to say "well, there is a big chance the courts will deny your request' thats BS. If i go to prison because I was accused of a robbery for 13 years, and DNA evidence proves I wasnt there, I get out of jail and can sue. This is no different. If anything, DNA evidence needs to be more of a factor in family law than in almost every court of law if not as equally important. My bad for not investigating her infidelity not only in the beginning but also in the end. How about not being a POS. sorry rant over
gets better. Her mom and dad smoke in the section 8 house, kids reek of cigarette smoke and marijuana, all day. they dont take showers there, they were hand me down clothes, they live in the garage shared with there mother, that isn't air conditioned. and he makes only a few thousand less than I do a month. She stated in court that she pays her mom $500 in rent which is BS, she is only doing that now so that she makes herself look bad. I know she is doing pills, like oxy and what not. Id love to prove it.
after the temp hearing, in april, I had to go to court to contest my drivers license suspension as I hadn't paid child support since, august of last year. again, there is no way, I can pay my bills, feed my children, go to the doctor, pay my lawyer to end all of this BS and pay the current child support amount. and again, this final hearing is still not set yet. So they intercepted my tax return, even though the temporary modification was approved, the final is what gets it retro backed to the date of filing, so they took, a much needed 5500 tax return from me. I needed that cause one of the issues I failed to mention as well, hurricane Ian has destroyed my home and I'm still going through that process too. not to mention I am on payment plans with Mayo clinic and other various medical facilities. (no one cares) but the interest that accrues, makes it impossible to catch up. also, Florida department of rev is overstepping I feel, and asking for medical info to be sent to them as well as updated doctors letters to be sent saying that I am still on disability.
a few weeks ago, I got an email from my lawyer having a withdrawal notice from her lawyer. in the withdrawal, he stated that he cannot represent her, due to something she may have withheld or lied about (more or less wasn't worded like that but you can tell). In feb court appearance they never produced the PI report, or videos, they had medical info they shouldn't have had, and they had very outlandish comments about my lifestyle. So my lawyer filed immediately a motion to compel. meaning, we want to see everything you have on my client. this was filed almost immediately after court appearance on feb 20th. Susan has failed to provide any updated info requested by my attorney so on june 18th, we have that upcoming hearing.
in the mean time, I have sent my lawyer, a very heavily requested topics, such as "where did they get my medical records, if those were lies, what are the consequences if any"? What did exercising have to do with any of this despite various drs saying he has to or he will get worse.
I know wat you must be thinking, what about your oldest, how can you do that to him. Please listen. This woman has taken everything from me. And i mean everything but the roof over my head. I am seeing a therapist to help with the suicidal thoughts. it isnt enough. the reality of it is, I chose to be loyal and it bit me in the butt. This disease will rob me of everything, my teeth will fall out ( I had 5 cavities last time I went to the dentist) I haven't had a cavity since I was 30 and even then I was suspicious. And I am brushing 5 time s a day to save them. My skin is tightening, and my arms and muscles are wasting. I will literally be left with nothing. My organs will also start to harden, and I will have to start getting around the clock care.
I forgot to mention they (child support) recently, sent a letter to SSI (social security) saying that they would garnish my SSI before I even got it, totaling $1029. the incorrect amount. I sent this to my lawyer and she is looking into it. But it shows that child support will overstep and breaks every law or freedom you may think you have. I DO take care of my children. if they need a haircut i do it, school supplies clothes, anything I do it. And I do it, cause she wont. What I want to leave you with, is that woman can be dead beats too. Child support was designed to have woman off of government subsidized programs like section 8 food stamps and what not. Also to make the man pay for their children man or woman I should say, I know this. I am not running from my obligation. I just want Susan, to have to pay for what's she's done to me and the kids.
I would like to hear your thoughts on this, please comment and share, all names are fake, but everything else is unfortunately real. I know it was wordy, but I wanted to provide as much backstory as possible. And please. Respect my descions. When you are end of life, I hope someone would be kind enough to respect yours. You may not agree and that's ok, but I am asking you to respect them. Thank you for reading.

I had to go to the grocery store today. Was running out of food for the dog, short on milk and just needed some things. I haven't been out for a month because of my step dad.
I can't trust my step dad. He will just sit and watch TV while I am gone. He has dementia and 85 years old. Not too long ago he went outside in the shed. He slipped and fell. I didn't know he was outside he never tells me. His son came by for dinner and found him while I was outside vaping. I did walk around looking for him but just in the wrong places. But anyway I got out today because my step sister in law came by for awhile to keep an eye on him.
I went to Weis grocery store. While I was shopping I was getting my cat her canned cat food. It was taking me awhile because looking for different food for her I didn't find. I look up and this older guy is just standing there waiting for me. I told this guy he should have said something and I moved out of the way. We got talking about our cats. He has like fifteen plus cats that he takes care of, I have one. But I have my cat for a reason I believe
First of all I have had two cats. My first cat was about 18 years ago. She was a black cat that my neighbors supposedly were taking care of. My neighbors back then, at least the guy, were jerks. The father laid out in the sun in his bikini bottom and didn't do anything all weekend. I felt sorry for his wife and kids. They always had cats running around outside. This black cat came to me one day and I found some food for her. She kept coming back. She became my best friend.
I went through some very hard times. I even thought of suicide. You know what kept me from doing it? My cat Midnight. Just seemed like everytime she came to me I had peace. I go out for a cigarette she would come to me without me calling her. She would come because she knew I needed her. A few times she was sitting right outside the door. When she passed away she was in my arms. She was like my best friend, an angel at that. I really do believe God sent her to be my friend.
Then about a couple weeks before she passed away she ended up getting under the porch. We had a board off because we had to do plumbing work under there years ago and Midnight liked going under there in the winter. Now we had to get her out so she didn't just die. When we did we kept her inside and took care of her. A few days after this calico cat, her name is Reese, walks up to me outside. She's rubbing my legs and meowing. She just followed me inside. I kept her in my room until Midnight passed on. Now she is all over and a climber. My mom passed on a year later from pancreatic cancer. A lot of other crap happened in that year and if God hadn't brought Reese before Midnight passed on I don't know where I would be today.
I believe everything happens for a reason and what we decide changes our future. That's why we need to make sure we stay on a good path and not a bad one. Personally I don't think we need to try to be perfect because that's impossible but use common sense. There is always a better way and having faith is what helps you to get there. Sometimes we just need a little help and we get a friend

So this is a story that happened when I was 7 and I mostly remember what happened but I got the conversation from my dad and he said that he was paraphrasing everything so it isn’t the exact conversation. So when I was 7 I played in a little league soccer team and near the end of the season there was a tournament with every team. If your team won every player would get like a small trophy and a medal that they probably bought at like a dollar tree but to us seven-year-olds those things were better than a World Cup trophy. Well, that year my team won. After they handed out the orange slices and trophies a woman came up to me with a crying kid who was on the other team (he was definitely crying because we absolutely smoked the other team) and she said:
EM: “Hi sweetie that’s a cool trophy you have right there”
Me: nodding my head yes
EM: “Do you think you could give it to me so I can give it to my son? He played very well”
Me: “No”
EK: “Mommy I want the trophy”
EM: “Stop being selfish just give me the trophy”
At this point, my dad saw what was happening and stepped in
Dad: “Can I help you?”
EM: “Oh I was just asking your daughter if she could give my son her trophy”
EK: “Mommy I want it”
Dad: “Why would she do that?”
EM: “Because he played well and deserves it”
Dad: “Okay well did his team win”
EM: “No but that’s not the point”
Dad: “No it is the point”
EK: “She wasn’t that good anyways. Girls shouldn’t even play soccer”
Dad: “If she isn’t good why did you lose”
EK: “MOMMY I WANT THE TROPHY”
EM: “Don’t talk to my son”
Dad: “Don’t talk to my daughter, go bother someone else.”
The entitled mom then ran off to go bother someone else and eventually, the coaches made her leave. It’s a funny story that my dad tells when we meet someone new. I don’t get the entitlement that some people get when it comes to their kid's sport and in all honesty if she just asked the coaches they probably would have given her one. And not to brag but the Pink Panthers would go on to win the tournament back-to-back.

Basically that. There's so much that's wrong in my life. There's so much wrong with me and my brain. There's so much *wrong* that feels impossible to cope with, and no matter how hard I try or how much work I put in, nothing changes.
I don't recognize myself. I started treatment for my ADHD with Adderall 2 years ago, and it made things worse. I can't function with it or without it anymore. Without it, I'm pretty smart and funny but an emotional wreck with a hair-trigger temper and zero mental clarity. I spend my time daydreaming and getting sidetracked, perpetually overthinking, exhausted, overwhelmed by the simplest things, losing my temper, can barely hold a job for 6 months or make it through college. With it, I'm functional but an impatient, rude, unfeeling robot and don't care about anything or anyone that doesn't involve improvement/productivity. I can control my emotional reactions so not overwhelmed or losing it out of nowhere but I'm way too serious and insanely irritated just being around other people if they aren't focused on being productive. My life gets healthier on the surface but feels empty underneath. Until it wears off, and then I realize how alone I really am and feel morbidly depressed for a while then mentally numb. It's probably nothing to do with the adderall, really, just that it makes my situation painfully clear to me but I can't go off of it without my life falling apart and ruining my chance of getting out of this mess. Maybe going to talk to my doctor about something else but she's probably sick of me failing with every med and I am too. At this point no doctor seems sure of anything with me. Before I ever took adderall my temper was not this bad. I don't know if it's a psychological thing, like now that I know I'm not this incompetent failure I've been made to feel like my whole life, I am much more deeply angry about the state of it, or if it's the drug itself but I think I wish I'd never started it.
Either way, my social life is gone, what feels like permanently. It was never good, but now I'm either too anxious or depressed & convinced I'll ruin a social interaction before it even starts, so I subconsciously ruin it by being rude or distant or don't ever try... or I just don't want to/don't remember how to emotionally connect to people. I feel too miserable right now to have any kind of relation unless it's with a therapist. I deal with dissociation no matter what but I think my emotional memories have been damaged bc I can look at someone I do actually love and feel like I'm looking at a stranger. Memories of my son as a baby are all fragmented and emotionally detached. I look at my mom and have to remind myself that she's my mom sometimes. I think it's been obvious to my friends that I'm not really there and am just going through the motions so basically all my friendships have gotten weird or toxic and fallen off. Maybe I've never even had a real close friendship in the first place. I'm starting to wonder if I've ever actually been close with or trusted anyone. I feel like I "lost it" before I ever got a chance to "have it". Not even going into the isolated violent wreck of my childhood or battles with depression starting in elementary school but I don't think I ever had a chance. And now I have a small person relying on me to do better. And I am but I'm also not. I used to be a better parent but had an episode of manic psychosis or a mental breakdown or something that ruined my brain.
I used to know how to at least pretend to be myself when things got bad and suffer through work or hanging out with people. I could put on a happy show, be empathetic and motivated and engaged. Now I don't even know how to... exist around others. I don't remember how to fake it and I'm too miserable to try except for around my son. I've had two episodes of psychosis in the past decade. Both changed me for the worse. It took years to recover last time, and I'm not sure I ever fully recovered. Then, another one earlier this year. And now I have a whole life that I can't put aside to focus on recovering. I have a child who's being affected by my situation and mental health. I have a living situation that we need me to work to get out of, so I can't ask my family for help. I have to keep pushing through college to get a better job.
My family... basically we had to move into my grandma's house after I left my son's dad. I knew it would probably still be toxic, I left at 16 for a reason, but planned to keep my head down and work my way up and all that. I guess I forgot how bad it was. I'm 27 now. Without extremely strong boundaries, they will walk over me & take from me, so I have nothing left for myself. I tried to communicate my feelings for a long time and learned the hard way they don't respect me enough to take the conversation seriously or respect my boundaries, so I have to keep them in mind 24/7 and be ready to enforce them, All the time at home. That's hard when your mental health is crap. But if I don't it'll just end up in another cycle of overwhelm/resentment/confrontation/shame and blame/defeat which I've been going through for 2 years. If I ask for help they will but they'll hold the help against me and expect me to just be refreshed and motivated to do stuff for them if they help me. They don't want us to separate from them and move out or get my health/life together. They don't understand so I can't afford to be gentle with myself. And it makes me deeply furious and resentful. But I rely on them for housing(do pay rent and our own food/bills). I live in their house. See them every day. They don't ask how things are, if I need anything, how school is going, no normal family stuff.. Part of it is just how they are they aren't generally kind or caring people. That's whatever. The other part is just ostracizing me because I don't entertain their toxic bullying/gossiping/whining crap and won't play that game. They watch me like a hawk, and instead of being genuinely concerned when I'm struggling, they stare me down and avoid engaging with me unless it's to criticize. They make me feel like a caged animal. Any amount of concern on their part is purely selfish.
The part that gets to me and makes me feel hopeless is how they use it against me and make sure I can't win. They won't accept interactions from me or my son that have boundaries. Because I stopped putting my and my child's life aside to take care of them. I stopped accepting my role as the scapegoat/incompetent overemotional f*** up who couldn't do anything right but still cared about them no matter how badly they treated me after I realized they don't want anything to improve they just want to be taken care of/in control. I'm not strong enough to engage with them all day and keep my boundaries strong. So I mind my business and ignore their attempts to get under my skin, all of a sudden I'm being disrespectful and selfish, or they're "concerned" about my son and mental health... except they aren't really and I learned the hard way not to fall for it. If I make an effort to get along, or accept help, even a little bit, they drag me back in by asking about my life or my son, making me feel comfortable, and then projecting their absurd opinions/criticism, making me doubt myself while also expecting my days to revolve around them. "They" is mostly my grandma btw, but she's backed up by everyone else, and my aunt is worse in other ways. She talks about me behind my back to other family members, denies it, tries to get closer to my son when I'm upset with her, is really manipulative and toxic in general. I can't stomach it any more. I can't live like this. I'm sick of seeing their faces and feeling that horrible judgmental, toxic energy and desperately just wanting to be anywhere, anyone else. I'm sick of them acting concerned when I take my son out for the day, most of the weekend, because they know I mostly just don't want either of us around them but refuse to just let it be, let alone even consider asking themselves why that is. And I'm sick of the fact that it's NORMAL. It's NORMAL for people to take their children to the playground for the day or go run errands with them. I'm doing NORMAL things and trying to be a responsible healthy adult and they act like I'm being insane and childish. It's pure enmeshment. Every bit of independence is me being selfish. And it's worse because it's not just my grandma... her and my aunt and my mom and mom's boyfriend and my little sister are all attached to this dynamic of never going anywhere, doing anything, relying entirely on each other, just being toxic, letting themselves and their lives rot, everything is always the same and everyone has to play their part. I'm alone.
I need help badly. I know my family isn't 100% the problem but I have been trying so hard and keep falling down harder. I wasn't always hostile and hard to get along with. I take my meds and talk to my doctors. I'm open to and actively work on self-improvement and going back to therapy. I try to change my mindset. But I keep getting dragged back down. They aren't just, not encouraging, they resent and sabotage me when I try to improve. It's impossible to get better in this dynamic. I'm not mentally strong. I've spent 20 years letting them make me doubt myself and I'm disgusted by it. I'm furious. The years I'm spending now trying to work on my mental health and life skills and getting a degree/good job I also have to spend navigating this hell. I never had a chance to be happy. Or make it out of here for real. I can't let my son get dragged into this the thought is the only thing that keeps me going. but I don't think I'm strong enough to make it alone. Or healthy enough not to be alone. I'm so tired. My son, the only joy in my life and what I have to live for, is having behavioral issues, too, because my family treats me so that he doesn't think of me as an authority and runs to them when I enforce a rule or put my foot down... he's starting to refuse to cooperate with me on anything and it's transferring into school too. They encourage it and tell me I'm being too hard on him. But he needs rules and boundaries, he needs his mom. It's better for me to keep trying and learning than him run to them for comfort over not getting what he wants over and over again. But every single time I have to be the asshole who drags him back into a conversation or time-out while both he and they look at me like I'm a monster. Remind them to stop letting him do that. Try not to scream in my grandmother's face that she needs to get over the fact that I'm his mother and she's only encouraging this because she can't stand to see me succeed at anything. Let alone help me succeed. I try so hard for him, but all this has turned me into a version of myself I don't recognize and deeply hate. I can barely force myself to care anymore unless I'm angry. I love him so much. But I just go through the motions.
His dad is an irresponsible narcissist who tells him that he doesn't have to listen to anyone or do anything he doesn't want to do and then acts surprised about his behavioral issues. Gaslights me. He turns our son against me, tells him that mommy is sick and that's why she isn't happy. He's obsessed with making himself look like the "good parent" while putting all the responsibility on me for actually doing the research and parenting him and coming up with insights and ideas. Manipulating everyone around us to seem like we're working together meanwhile I had to BEG him to take something seriously for once and stop making every conversation about our son about his "love" for me/guilt tripping me for not wanting to get back together or give in to his manipulation... begging him to put our son first and just be an adult behind the scenes. I don't talk to him anymore unless it's about our son and even then I'm extremely short and refuse to engage in his fantasies. He regularly accuses me of sleeping around, not caring about our son, and other insane stories to fill in the blanks just because I won't open up due to him taking advantage of any amount of personable conversation. Everything with him is a complete and utter fantasy. Even talking about our son's behavior at school or how to work together on potty training he tries to drag me into a conversation about his feelings for me and how worried he is about me. I left him two years ago because he was emotionally abusive, controlling, and wouldn't help me with our son unless I was breaking down. Not remotely interested in rekindling that relationship or having a conversation about it. He knows if he tries the conversation stops there, yet tries every time, and then will eventually blow up and send me novel after novel detailing how much of a piece of crap he thinks I am. Then he'll apologize (finally, after years of it spiraling from there, he knows I log those conversations in case I need to for court) and act like it never happened until the hoovering starts again.
And it sucks that my mental health IS bad and I DO need help but I can't trust anyone around me to not take advantage of that.
I cannot trust anyone. Not a single person in my life. Healthier family members avoid me because I'm so miserable that it's toxic on its own. I don't want to talk to anyone about anything. I don't feel like I'm alive or have an ounce of sanity left. I'm not even a person anymore. None of this is fixable. I don't just feel like an empty shell of a person, I am an empty shell of a person. I'm hopelessness and rage and loneliness pretending to be a person. I used to be a person. I hate every single person that I know. I hate that I hate them. I hate that I pushed away the good people in my life because I am trapped in these toxic and draining but necessary relationships. I hate myself for dragging my son into this mess. I hate that my best option is to completely fake being okay with this groundhog day from hell until I get my own place to fall apart and heal. And right now I hate how impossible that feels. I don't want to live like this.
Anyway. I'm keeping on. Just... venting. After being silent and in my head for a while. Take it with a grain of salt. Thanks, if anyone read this far.

Hello there!
I graduated from pregnant to first time mommy on 5/10. My son is perfect and I didn’t know it was possible to love something this much.
I wanted to come on here and give you guys a heads up and some advice so you can learn from my mistakes postpartum.
I had a voluntary induced vaginal birth at 40+1. I labored for about 24 hours and pushed for less than an hour before baby was in my arms.
I had a second degree tear and a small hemorrhoid following birth.
When I got home (because this is who I am) I started going up and down the stairs, trying to get the house in order, rocking the baby, sitting on the couch and unloading groceries I had delivered.
By day two of being home I was in agony. My vagina hurt so bad and I couldn’t sit on the toilet, the couch, I could hardly walk and trying to get out of bed had me crying out in pain. I would go to the bathroom and pee all over the floor before sitting on the toilet because I had no control over my bladder. When I called the OB they asked me to come in to be checked out. They told me I looked good but were worried about how tender I was. I was in tears, I couldn’t even hold my son upright because the pain was so bad.
My own mama told me I needed to focus on my pelvic floor. All my organs had shifted and were sitting on top of my pelvis now. She told me to be horizontal as much as I possibly could, no matter how hard it might be. I’m now on day 4 of being mostly horizontal - my husband blew up an air mattress in the living room where I hang out with baby most of the day and I’m now able to walk around, use the bathroom, stand and sit for short periods without any pain.
When I searched Reddit for answers of what could be wrong and how to fix it, I saw stories of women who had pain for 6 weeks before feeling any relief.
I’m here to tell you to listen to my mother lol. You just went through a serious medical event and your body needs time to heal. Don’t push too hard and make sure to not put too much pressure on your pelvis. It gets better, and if you’re a busy body like me.. remind yourself that you’ll never get this time back with your little one and the house can wait.
Thanks for reading and good luck ❤️ it’ll all be worth it when they’re in your arms.