Acrostic poem on the topic mom
Poetry Critics: for constructive criticism of your poetry
2014.03.26 04:52 freedreamer Poetry Critics: for constructive criticism of your poetry
This is a subreddit for constructive criticism and feedback on all types of poetry. Our primary goal with this sub is to ensure that every poem that is submitted gets a good amount of quality feedback. Please sort by 'new' to see posts that have little or no feedback.
2019.05.11 05:38 Nardo318 Noah's Ark
Have you ever seen some horrible acts from humanity and wished for a second flood to end humanity? Give God a reason to send the flood. https://discord.gg/u3Wehzt
2010.02.28 08:02 AgentConundrum I Want To Learn: Connecting people who want to learn with people that can teach
Have you ever wanted to learn a martial art, or to play the guitar, or how to program a computer? Have you had difficulty figuring out where to start, what path to take or just wanted some advice to get you to the next level? Well, that's what /IWantToLearn is all about! Tell our community what you want to learn, and let those who came before you help guide you towards success!
2024.05.18 23:01 sxr4hh My friend is incredibly toxic and I somehow feel bad
For context, my toxic friend and I are both 15 years old. At the beginning of our friendship, she seemed pretty cool. I could tell she got comfortable quickly, but I didn't mind it since I also have attachment issues. However, I've started to notice her violent tendencies towards me both physically and verbally.
Firstly, she says a lot of slurs that she shouldn't be saying. I told her to stop saying them and she said that she didn't know that they were slurs. It was questionable since almost everyone knew what was a slur and what was not, but I didn't make a comment on it. She proceeded to say the slurs anyway and verbalized that she didn't care. Additionally, she seems to have no boundaries when she says certain things. For example, my relationship with my mother is something I keep private since it's a sensitive topic for me. Unbeknownst to my friend, she brought up my mom in a conversation one day. I told her I didn't want to talk about it, but she refused and persisted that I give her an explanation. I said no multiple times and she began to ask inappropriate questions like "is your mom a prostitute?" or "is she dead?" I'm not much of a cryer, but in this situation, I really was holding back tears.
Secondly, she has a short temper. This didn't bother me at first because I deal with short-tempered people daily, but with her, it escalates. A lot of the times when I say no to her, she strangles me from behind. Or if we're in gym, she deliberately throws basketballs at me. Obviously, it hurts like hell and once again I have to tell her to stop but she never listens. I've talked to my other friend about it (the three of us are a trio) and she agrees with me + stands up for me. I want to drop her, but I feel awful because she always apologizes to me for her actions and says she means no harm or is just joking around. Plus, we share mutual friends, so dropping her would leave an awkward gap and cause a lot of problems in the trio. I feel like my personality is also holding me back from doing what I need to do since I tend to be a forgivable person and brush things off, even when it's not worth forgiveness. Any advice on how to overcome being too nice? Also, how else should I approach this situation?
submitted by sxr4hh to abusiverelationships [link] [comments]
Firstly, she says a lot of slurs that she shouldn't be saying. I told her to stop saying them and she said that she didn't know that they were slurs. It was questionable since almost everyone knew what was a slur and what was not, but I didn't make a comment on it. She proceeded to say the slurs anyway and verbalized that she didn't care. Additionally, she seems to have no boundaries when she says certain things. For example, my relationship with my mother is something I keep private since it's a sensitive topic for me. Unbeknownst to my friend, she brought up my mom in a conversation one day. I told her I didn't want to talk about it, but she refused and persisted that I give her an explanation. I said no multiple times and she began to ask inappropriate questions like "is your mom a prostitute?" or "is she dead?" I'm not much of a cryer, but in this situation, I really was holding back tears.
Secondly, she has a short temper. This didn't bother me at first because I deal with short-tempered people daily, but with her, it escalates. A lot of the times when I say no to her, she strangles me from behind. Or if we're in gym, she deliberately throws basketballs at me. Obviously, it hurts like hell and once again I have to tell her to stop but she never listens. I've talked to my other friend about it (the three of us are a trio) and she agrees with me + stands up for me. I want to drop her, but I feel awful because she always apologizes to me for her actions and says she means no harm or is just joking around. Plus, we share mutual friends, so dropping her would leave an awkward gap and cause a lot of problems in the trio. I feel like my personality is also holding me back from doing what I need to do since I tend to be a forgivable person and brush things off, even when it's not worth forgiveness. Any advice on how to overcome being too nice? Also, how else should I approach this situation?
2024.05.18 22:55 Beneficial_Yam_194 Just venting about my mom being unsupportive
Yesterday we had a fight and at the end the topic shifted and she said will NEVER call me by my name or he/him. I've been out to her for abt 7 years. She's said similar stuff but never this clear cut. What's hurts more is how she says it so casually. She says it like she's not angry with me and I can't be mad. Like its totally normal ane not a big deal. That she refuses to respect the most important thing to me. She almost sounds like she pities me, like "oh honey you know thats never going to happen" She just can't understand that my heart is totally broken, she can't understand why I hate being around her. She literally said today "I don't feel like we were agruing" and its INSANE to me she doesn't even understand that she is saying relationship ending things to me. My dad sucks and my mom is all I've had my whole life. The older I get the more I realize she sucks even worse. How's she's destroyed me in every way. I've been in denial for so so long, and I'm realizing I get it from her. After f*cking me up like this, she can't do this one kindness.
Please don't say anything about "its a transition period" im sick of hearing that after 7 years. Even if I only told her explicitly who I am around 15 yrs old, she KNOWS I've been disconnected from myself and birth gender since forever, she's just scared to admit it or connect the dots. Im sick of being patient. She doesn't care. She doesn't see how much it hurts. I hate seeing other ppl with supportive parents. I seethe with jealousy and I want to be adopted so bad. I have no one and thats why I cling to my bf even when I shouldn't.
I think the cherry on top is if someone dmed her rn asking if she supported me, she'd say yes. Probably use my correct name and they/them pronouns. She can do it to look good for friends and strangers. But not when im literally begging her.
Its that stupid comment "I wonder why my kids won't talk to me anymore??" I was her golden child. And she's throwing me away because im not a cisgender son.
submitted by Beneficial_Yam_194 to ftm [link] [comments]
Please don't say anything about "its a transition period" im sick of hearing that after 7 years. Even if I only told her explicitly who I am around 15 yrs old, she KNOWS I've been disconnected from myself and birth gender since forever, she's just scared to admit it or connect the dots. Im sick of being patient. She doesn't care. She doesn't see how much it hurts. I hate seeing other ppl with supportive parents. I seethe with jealousy and I want to be adopted so bad. I have no one and thats why I cling to my bf even when I shouldn't.
I think the cherry on top is if someone dmed her rn asking if she supported me, she'd say yes. Probably use my correct name and they/them pronouns. She can do it to look good for friends and strangers. But not when im literally begging her.
Its that stupid comment "I wonder why my kids won't talk to me anymore??" I was her golden child. And she's throwing me away because im not a cisgender son.
2024.05.18 22:16 Perfect_Wolverine543 Not ready to take any blame - BP
My WW had a 7 month online affair with her old high school teacher (also married). DDay was April 22nd. She was planning to meet him at a hotel in June, but since I found out she cut all contact with him, and has been very open and apologetic. She cried straight for about a week, admitted to everything as far as I can verify, (watching each other masturbate, saying she loves him, fantasizing about living together). She did almost everything right from that point, except begging me not to tell the OBP.
We want to reconcile (we have 2 little girls, married 10 years).
My first instinct was terror at losing my family, and just general jealousy and hurt. I never yelled at her or anything. I didn't feel I needed to, she was clearly contrite and didn't like herself for doing it.
We've been doing the hysterical bonding thing, which seems to help. And we've been talking more, which is nice. I can't usually go to sleep at night though and wander downstairs to stew most nights. She feels bad about that.
Last night she came down in the morning and found me awake at 5am. We talked because I was jealous that when we were having sex she wanted me to grab her ass but didn't say anything. She tried to move my hands, but it wasn't clear. In short, she's always been very shy about sexual communication. I couldn't sleep because I remembered some of the sexually graphic texts and emails she sent to him. I told her this, and for the first time (except 1 extremely brief bit on day 1) she explained that she was more comfortable with this man sexually because they communicated much more about other topics and opened up about their feeling, etc. Then she complained that she went through a rough 2 years because I didn't spend enough time with the family, or enough time with her.
She's a stay at home mom because I work hard enough so she can do that, and I think I always resented that she wasn't happier or more grateful for that. She wanted to stay home when we had kids, I give that to her, and now she's mad that I don't see them enough.
The big problem is that she's probably right. I would sleep in late on non work days, I'd stay up late to get alone time, and I didn't love family adventures with our little girls. I'm an introvert. My girls love me, don't get me wrong. My oldest (7 tomorrow) and I have long conversations and debates, and I'm clearly her favorite.
It's not that my WW is wrong, it's that I'm not ready to accept that kind of blame or responsibility right now. I'm hurting worse than I ever have before, and on top of that I have to hear that my wife is angry at me and I wasn't a great husband. How am I supposed to heal through that?
I shouldn't overstate it, my WW was very clear that my failings (my word) don't serve as an excuse for what she did. We love each other and seem committed to making it work. She feels a ton of guilt and we are very kind to each other. But in the span of a month I went from:
I'm a good responsible husband with a solid marriage
to
I'm a good responsible husband whose wife made a terrible decision and I have to learn to forgive her.
to now:
I'm an average husband at best that neglected my wife causing her to have a brutal affair and now I have to heal through that just to get back to where I was, and then make all kinds of life changes to improve her life. Where upon, maybe, she'll love me as much as that other cheating A-hole.
This sucks.
submitted by Perfect_Wolverine543 to AsOneAfterInfidelity [link] [comments]
We want to reconcile (we have 2 little girls, married 10 years).
My first instinct was terror at losing my family, and just general jealousy and hurt. I never yelled at her or anything. I didn't feel I needed to, she was clearly contrite and didn't like herself for doing it.
We've been doing the hysterical bonding thing, which seems to help. And we've been talking more, which is nice. I can't usually go to sleep at night though and wander downstairs to stew most nights. She feels bad about that.
Last night she came down in the morning and found me awake at 5am. We talked because I was jealous that when we were having sex she wanted me to grab her ass but didn't say anything. She tried to move my hands, but it wasn't clear. In short, she's always been very shy about sexual communication. I couldn't sleep because I remembered some of the sexually graphic texts and emails she sent to him. I told her this, and for the first time (except 1 extremely brief bit on day 1) she explained that she was more comfortable with this man sexually because they communicated much more about other topics and opened up about their feeling, etc. Then she complained that she went through a rough 2 years because I didn't spend enough time with the family, or enough time with her.
She's a stay at home mom because I work hard enough so she can do that, and I think I always resented that she wasn't happier or more grateful for that. She wanted to stay home when we had kids, I give that to her, and now she's mad that I don't see them enough.
The big problem is that she's probably right. I would sleep in late on non work days, I'd stay up late to get alone time, and I didn't love family adventures with our little girls. I'm an introvert. My girls love me, don't get me wrong. My oldest (7 tomorrow) and I have long conversations and debates, and I'm clearly her favorite.
It's not that my WW is wrong, it's that I'm not ready to accept that kind of blame or responsibility right now. I'm hurting worse than I ever have before, and on top of that I have to hear that my wife is angry at me and I wasn't a great husband. How am I supposed to heal through that?
I shouldn't overstate it, my WW was very clear that my failings (my word) don't serve as an excuse for what she did. We love each other and seem committed to making it work. She feels a ton of guilt and we are very kind to each other. But in the span of a month I went from:
I'm a good responsible husband with a solid marriage
to
I'm a good responsible husband whose wife made a terrible decision and I have to learn to forgive her.
to now:
I'm an average husband at best that neglected my wife causing her to have a brutal affair and now I have to heal through that just to get back to where I was, and then make all kinds of life changes to improve her life. Where upon, maybe, she'll love me as much as that other cheating A-hole.
This sucks.
2024.05.18 22:11 Definition_Novel Vytautas Montvila: the Lithuanian Diaspora’s true unsung hero.
 | In the age of current mass glorification via media from Lithuania and the United States of diaspora Lithuanian fascists like Adolfas Ramanauskas (Ramanauskas was born in New Britain, Connecticut, USA and later moved to Lithuania, later collaborating with Nazis during their invasion) or Lithuanian exile fascists like Jonas Mekas, few diaspora Lithuanians remember the names of revolutionary socialist Lithuanian diaspora heroes like Vytautas Montvila or Antanas Bimba. Antanas Bimba was a Lithuanian involved in the early American Communist movement, and a post will be made for him sometime later. As for the story of Montvila, It is up to Lithuanians everywhere to give this man his credit as a hero and martyr against fascism. submitted by Definition_Novel to SovietDiaspora [link] [comments] Vytautas was born to to an ethnic Lithuanian Catholic immigrant family in 1902 in the city of St. Charles, Illinois. His family, like many Lithuanian immigrants to America at the time, left Lithuania due to persecution by czarist Russian Empire authorities, whom sought to ban Lithuanian language as well as restrict the Catholic Church in favor of Orthodoxy. This persecution under czarism caused many minorities, particularly ethnic Lithuanian Catholics and Lithuanian Jews, to move often to the United States, Canada, or South American nations. In 1906, he and his family returned to Lithuania, moving to the city of Marijampolė. The family later moved to Degučiai, then a Marijampolė suburb. As Vytautas grew older, between the years of 1922-26 he joined the Kėdainiai Teacher’s Seminary. It was somewhat of a social club for study, covering a wide range of topics, such as science, culture, atheism, and philosophy. Members were of various political parties, but it was here Vytautas became acquainted with local Communist activists and gained entry into the wider movement. The communists at these meetings often discussed Marxist theory, offered to share sections of the Communist Manifesto, and recruited members into local Worker’s Guilds. In 1923, he began writing his early poetry, often revolutionary in nature and influenced by avant-garde style. In his most famous poem, “Naktys be Nakvynės” (ENG: “Nights Without Accommodation”), written early in his career, he champions revolutionary socialism and personifies art of poetry as a tool for revolution. His later work from 1940-41 reflects the new Soviet period, condemns the reactionary past, hoping towards a socialist future in Lithuania. These later poems were influenced heavily by the works of fellow Soviet poet V. Mayakovsky, whose works Montvila enjoyed. These later works by Montvila were of a topical oratorical style, and he is credited often with having laid the foundation for other Lithuanian Soviet poets at the time. Montvila also wrote short stories and portions of novels. Among other feats, he translated the novel “Mother” by fellow Soviet writer Maxim Gorky, from Russian into Lithuanian, as well as translated the writer Émile Zola’s novel “The Collapse” from its original French into Lithuanian. He shortly then studied in the Faculty of Humanities at the University of Lithuania (Today, Vytautas Magnus University in Kaunas). Following his departure from university, he began a life fully committed to revolutionary socialist activism. In 1929, in an effort to organizationally unify leftist writers against the bourgeoisie, he published the revolutionary almanac “Raketa” (ENG: “Rocket.”) For this, he was imprisoned from his arrest in 1929 to 1931. During 1935, he moved back to Marijampolė, and published the “Skardas” (ENG: “Tin”) worker’s newspaper for the Communist faction of the Lithuanian Social Democratic Party. He also published other socialist newspapers, titled “Darbas” (ENG: “Work”), “Kultūra” (ENG: “Culture”), “Aušrine” (ENG: “Dawn”), and “Prošvaistė” (ENG: “The Light”) for various leftist organizations. He simultaneously worked odd jobs to add to his livelihood. Upon establishment of the Soviet Lithuanian government in 1940, Montvila, like many leftist Lithuanian citizens, was thrilled and ready for change, having been oppressed in a society previously plagued by issues such as anti-communism, rural serfdom, clerical fascism, anti-Semitism, and capitalist exploitation of all of the working people of Lithuania. Vytautas dedicated specialized time to working with Soviet authorities to publish and translate revolutionary texts from various authors, as well as delivering his own revolutionary pro-Soviet speeches. He continued this into 1941, the final year of his life. Upon the Nazi invasion of Lithuania in mid-1941, he was captured by local collaborators and Gestapo. According to documents, he did not run or resist, rather instead defiantly, in true revolutionary martyr manner, insulted his captors. He was taken prisoner to the 9th Fort in Kaunas, where he was executed, being shot to death on July 19th, 1941, killed alongside many other Jewish and leftist victims of Nazi and collaborator fascist terror. To leftists who are aware of his heroism and revolutionary martyrdom, he is often compared to fellow revolutionary and Spanish poet F. Garcia Lorca, a leftist whom was executed by the Francoists. Vytautas, Lorca, and all revolutionaries shall be remembered forever. May we remember Vytautas Montvila, a hero to all Lithuanians, but especially to Lithuanians in the diaspora! Remember Vytautas Montvila, both uniquely a hero to Lithuanian-Americans, and the people of Lithuania! |
2024.05.18 21:40 Al3x_Rul3z Why is my autistic brother so hard to deal with?
I love my brother, I really do, But he gets on my nerves. A lot. My brother has autism, which by itself is really hard to deal with as his sibling, because deep down you know you will never have a normal sibling relationship.
submitted by Al3x_Rul3z to u/Al3x_Rul3z [link] [comments]
- We hang out, but whenever it’s done, he just pushes me away and tells me to get out of his room. I always feel like it’s my fault, wondering if I did or said something wrong. We don’t even act like siblings, more like awkward roommates, or just friends.
- He makes me feel bad. I always feel like he’s judging me, even though we’re literally family. For example: If I simply even take interest or talk about a topic for too long, he practically makes fun of me for it and will use it against me.
- No privacy. Whenever I’ll be in my room, doing nothing except on my phone, he’ll barge in without asking, pick up my stuff (Action figures, Comic books, Pencils, Etc.), Asking what I’m watching, who I’m texting, even though It’s none of his business, and doesn’t leave after the 5th time I ask, or I make him leave with force. Although if I walk in his room without an invitation, he IMMEDIATELY gets annoyed and will kick me out.
2024.05.18 21:26 TupluTV whores
A, B, C and D.
I want to start with the one I want to kill or beat up the most: A. He is a pro football player, and that's kind of where the problem begins. When we were in the same class my whole life, he always yelled at me whenever we played football, ever since elementary school. He is also (for some reason) the highlight of the class, like for every single girl. He even had his first kiss under a desk in kindergarten. Not that I have a problem with that; the girls are all his, I don't even want a girlfriend. But what I don't get is how every single girl STILL likes and praises him despite him always humiliating, teasing, and sometimes even hitting some of them, yet none of those girls can even stand sitting next to me (especially B, but I'll get to her later). It's like it has become a standard for every girl to not like me. They say they don't hate me and I'm just being dramatic, but I'm pretty sure of the truth; most of them dislike me, don't even respect me. Anyways, back to A. Its almost a part of his daily life to make fun of me or swearing at me. All i did was wear a lumberjack shirt on top of my school uniform and he still sweared at me about it. (Something like ''fuck your clothing'' as the google translate says) he occasinally pushes me out of the way, my fatass ''friend'' pushed me so i leaned against a side to avoid hitting his GF (not that i care that she is his girlfriend) and he still yelled something like ''stay away'' like some fucking dog protecting his mate. He always cuts me off when i ask something to the teacher and almost the whole class joins him like some hiveimind. The girls are so OK with him he always had girls following him like some kind of animal's harem before he had a GF ,they even made fun of THE WAY I THOUGHT(like,my hand was on my chin.), i also call the ones on his tails whores. My hate for him is so strong i get past kill/torture him, i sometimes want to push him to the ground and r@pe him so i can give him a trauma that he will never forget, ruining his life and maybe even suiciding if im lucky (or unlucky). Im trying not to give in,but if i ever did something like that and if someone asked if i regret it,i would probably say ''i would do it again if i had they gave me the chance to go to the past''. Everytime i see him walking down stairs,i want to kick his back,slam his head against the wall until his face bled. İ want to put him down on his knees and hold him by his hair on the streetcar rails,because that way,i would both suicide and also kill him,it would be pure bliss for a few seconds. But i get sad every time i remember that murder is obviously illegal,and it wouldnt be worth burning my life...i also think about if its actually worth it cause, i dont have much dreams,i want to be a simple cashier,not much would change the world if i died,but if i killed him or he died in some way,i would be eternally happy. He is probably one of the,if not the worst, of this list of people,i wanna strangle him to death.
Now for B, she has blue hair and trains in muay thai, she even joins tournaments, but she is half my height and weight, im pretty sure i could beat her up,but i dont want to let my ego get in the way. Anyways now for why i hate her. She is fucking annoying. She ALSO cuts my sentences to make fun of me, she would never sit down with me, she calls me weird, she mentions that has nothing to do with the topic while arguing with me, like the time she made fun of the pose i made for the school album where all the boys are in a single pic.(The pose was me leaning one one of my waist while putting my hand on the opposite side o fmy waist while doing the peace sign, which,sure,its funny,but not an excuse to make fun of me) I always regret the time when she punched my stomach and ran away to her desk. All i did was just raise my leg and slowly ''stomp'' her on the chest,which only just leaved a print of dust on her. If i could go to past,i would definetly beat the shit out of her. She also almost punched me just because i called her adolescent (everyone calls her that btw,she tried to hit JUST me) but i thankfully caught her fist in the air. The teacher of course warned her,but im sure as hell they wouldnt *just* warn me if i hit her,its just general teacher treatment. Anyways long story short,i hate her as much as A,if somehow not more. The things i wanna do to her are the same as A, torture,murder,beating up and rarely even r@pe blah blah.
Now C. He is...a bit egoistic, he will point and laugh at me, but uses force even if i call him a nickname everyone calls him. He even threatened me in elemantary school to join him in being naughty. The intimading about him is well,he is pretty muscly and also grew up in a bit of dangerous streets. He is usually cool but he is one of the people who always keep up with the making fun of me everytime i get a random boner trend (everyone in this list,except B keeps this up btw). Overall i still wanna kill him etc etc, the same.
D. D is...also loved by everyone but me.He also makes fun of me, like saying they will beat me up in highschool for random fucking reasons thats none of his business (Dumb shit like me liking old things btw). I think he is probably the weakest out of this bunch (or maybe B, idk). He studies all day (his mom kinda forces him to) but that doesnt justify his actions like slapping my cheeks (both kind of cheeks,yes). He is also weirdly handsome and kind of a soft. The same thing goes for him too. Murder, beating up, torture, r@pe etc.
Anyways,long story short,these are people that i wouldnt be sad at if they died or got hurt. Also the people who i would love to hurt if it was legal. But, yknow, my hate for A,or any of these people, teaches me something. No matter how much of an asshole you are, no matter what you do,if you are popular for a good reason, you will always be the one winning, its just the way society works. And honestly,classmates like these make me understand some school shooters and why they do it, of course, im not saying its justifyed at all, its one of the stupidest things to do,but i kinda have those thoughts too. Last words: I hope every one of these people i counted above a very unpleasent life and death,they ruined the most active moments of my life,puberty,and further boosted my sadness and p*rn addiction.
submitted by TupluTV to u/TupluTV [link] [comments]
I want to start with the one I want to kill or beat up the most: A. He is a pro football player, and that's kind of where the problem begins. When we were in the same class my whole life, he always yelled at me whenever we played football, ever since elementary school. He is also (for some reason) the highlight of the class, like for every single girl. He even had his first kiss under a desk in kindergarten. Not that I have a problem with that; the girls are all his, I don't even want a girlfriend. But what I don't get is how every single girl STILL likes and praises him despite him always humiliating, teasing, and sometimes even hitting some of them, yet none of those girls can even stand sitting next to me (especially B, but I'll get to her later). It's like it has become a standard for every girl to not like me. They say they don't hate me and I'm just being dramatic, but I'm pretty sure of the truth; most of them dislike me, don't even respect me. Anyways, back to A. Its almost a part of his daily life to make fun of me or swearing at me. All i did was wear a lumberjack shirt on top of my school uniform and he still sweared at me about it. (Something like ''fuck your clothing'' as the google translate says) he occasinally pushes me out of the way, my fatass ''friend'' pushed me so i leaned against a side to avoid hitting his GF (not that i care that she is his girlfriend) and he still yelled something like ''stay away'' like some fucking dog protecting his mate. He always cuts me off when i ask something to the teacher and almost the whole class joins him like some hiveimind. The girls are so OK with him he always had girls following him like some kind of animal's harem before he had a GF ,they even made fun of THE WAY I THOUGHT(like,my hand was on my chin.), i also call the ones on his tails whores. My hate for him is so strong i get past kill/torture him, i sometimes want to push him to the ground and r@pe him so i can give him a trauma that he will never forget, ruining his life and maybe even suiciding if im lucky (or unlucky). Im trying not to give in,but if i ever did something like that and if someone asked if i regret it,i would probably say ''i would do it again if i had they gave me the chance to go to the past''. Everytime i see him walking down stairs,i want to kick his back,slam his head against the wall until his face bled. İ want to put him down on his knees and hold him by his hair on the streetcar rails,because that way,i would both suicide and also kill him,it would be pure bliss for a few seconds. But i get sad every time i remember that murder is obviously illegal,and it wouldnt be worth burning my life...i also think about if its actually worth it cause, i dont have much dreams,i want to be a simple cashier,not much would change the world if i died,but if i killed him or he died in some way,i would be eternally happy. He is probably one of the,if not the worst, of this list of people,i wanna strangle him to death.
Now for B, she has blue hair and trains in muay thai, she even joins tournaments, but she is half my height and weight, im pretty sure i could beat her up,but i dont want to let my ego get in the way. Anyways now for why i hate her. She is fucking annoying. She ALSO cuts my sentences to make fun of me, she would never sit down with me, she calls me weird, she mentions that has nothing to do with the topic while arguing with me, like the time she made fun of the pose i made for the school album where all the boys are in a single pic.(The pose was me leaning one one of my waist while putting my hand on the opposite side o fmy waist while doing the peace sign, which,sure,its funny,but not an excuse to make fun of me) I always regret the time when she punched my stomach and ran away to her desk. All i did was just raise my leg and slowly ''stomp'' her on the chest,which only just leaved a print of dust on her. If i could go to past,i would definetly beat the shit out of her. She also almost punched me just because i called her adolescent (everyone calls her that btw,she tried to hit JUST me) but i thankfully caught her fist in the air. The teacher of course warned her,but im sure as hell they wouldnt *just* warn me if i hit her,its just general teacher treatment. Anyways long story short,i hate her as much as A,if somehow not more. The things i wanna do to her are the same as A, torture,murder,beating up and rarely even r@pe blah blah.
Now C. He is...a bit egoistic, he will point and laugh at me, but uses force even if i call him a nickname everyone calls him. He even threatened me in elemantary school to join him in being naughty. The intimading about him is well,he is pretty muscly and also grew up in a bit of dangerous streets. He is usually cool but he is one of the people who always keep up with the making fun of me everytime i get a random boner trend (everyone in this list,except B keeps this up btw). Overall i still wanna kill him etc etc, the same.
D. D is...also loved by everyone but me.He also makes fun of me, like saying they will beat me up in highschool for random fucking reasons thats none of his business (Dumb shit like me liking old things btw). I think he is probably the weakest out of this bunch (or maybe B, idk). He studies all day (his mom kinda forces him to) but that doesnt justify his actions like slapping my cheeks (both kind of cheeks,yes). He is also weirdly handsome and kind of a soft. The same thing goes for him too. Murder, beating up, torture, r@pe etc.
Anyways,long story short,these are people that i wouldnt be sad at if they died or got hurt. Also the people who i would love to hurt if it was legal. But, yknow, my hate for A,or any of these people, teaches me something. No matter how much of an asshole you are, no matter what you do,if you are popular for a good reason, you will always be the one winning, its just the way society works. And honestly,classmates like these make me understand some school shooters and why they do it, of course, im not saying its justifyed at all, its one of the stupidest things to do,but i kinda have those thoughts too. Last words: I hope every one of these people i counted above a very unpleasent life and death,they ruined the most active moments of my life,puberty,and further boosted my sadness and p*rn addiction.
2024.05.18 21:18 Definition_Novel Vytautas Montvila: the Lithuanian Diaspora’s true unsung hero.
 | In the age of current mass glorification via media from Lithuania and the United States of diaspora Lithuanian fascists like Adolfas Ramanauskas (Ramanauskas was born in New Britain, Connecticut, USA and later moved to Lithuania, later collaborating with Nazis during their invasion) or Lithuanian exile fascists like Jonas Mekas, few diaspora Lithuanians remember the names of revolutionary socialist Lithuanian diaspora heroes like Vytautas Montvila or Antanas Bimba. Antanas Bimba was a Lithuanian involved in the early American Communist movement, and a post will be made for him sometime later. As for the story of Montvila, It is up to Lithuanians everywhere to give this man his credit as a hero and martyr against fascism. Vytautas was born to to an ethnic Lithuanian Catholic immigrant family in 1902 in the city of St. Charles, Illinois. His family, like many Lithuanian immigrants to America at the time, left Lithuania due to persecution by czarist Russian Empire authorities, whom sought to ban Lithuanian language as well as restrict the Catholic Church in favor of Orthodoxy. This persecution under czarism caused many minorities, particularly ethnic Lithuanian Catholics and Lithuanian Jews, to move often to the United States, Canada, or South American nations. In 1906, he and his family returned to Lithuania, moving to the city of Marijampolė. The family later moved to Degučiai, then a Marijampolė suburb. submitted by Definition_Novel to TheDeprogram [link] [comments] As Vytautas grew older, between the years of 1922-26 he joined the Kėdainiai Teacher’s Seminary. It was somewhat of a social club for study, covering a wide range of topics, such as science, culture, atheism, and philosophy. Members were of various political parties, but it was here Vytautas became acquainted with local Communist activists and gained entry into the wider movement. The communists at these meetings often discussed Marxist theory, offered to share sections of the Communist Manifesto, and recruited members into local Worker’s Guilds. In 1923, he began writing his early poetry, often revolutionary in nature and influenced by avant-garde style. In his most famous poem, “Naktys be Nakvynės” (ENG: “Nights Without Accommodation”), written early in his career, he champions revolutionary socialism and personifies art of poetry as a tool for revolution. His later work from 1940-41 reflects the new Soviet period, condemns the reactionary past, hoping towards a socialist future in Lithuania. These later poems were influenced heavily by the works of fellow Soviet poet V. Mayakovsky, whose works Montvila enjoyed. These later works by Montvila were of a topical oratorical style, and he is credited often with having laid the foundation for other Lithuanian Soviet poets at the time. Montvila also wrote short stories and portions of novels. Among other feats, he translated the novel “Mother” by fellow Soviet writer Maxim Gorky, from Russian into Lithuanian, as well as translated the writer Émile Zola’s novel “The Collapse” from its original French into Lithuanian. He shortly then studied in the Faculty of Humanities at the University of Lithuania (Today, Vytautas Magnus University in Kaunas). Following his departure from university, he began a life fully committed to revolutionary socialist activism. In 1929, in an effort to organizationally unify leftist writers against the bourgeoisie, he published the revolutionary almanac “Raketa” (ENG: “Rocket.”) For this, he was imprisoned from his arrest in 1929 to 1931. During 1935, he moved back to Marijampolė, and published the “Skardas” (ENG: “Tin”) worker’s newspaper for the Communist faction of the Lithuanian Social Democratic Party. He also published other socialist newspapers, titled “Darbas” (ENG: “Work”), “Kultūra” (ENG: “Culture”), “Aušrine” (ENG: “Dawn”), and “Prošvaistė” (ENG: “The Light”) for various leftist organizations. He simultaneously worked odd jobs to add to his livelihood. Upon establishment of the Soviet Lithuanian government in 1940, Montvila, like many leftist Lithuanian citizens, was thrilled and ready for change, having been oppressed in a society previously plagued by issues such as anti-communism, rural serfdom, clerical fascism, anti-Semitism, and capitalist exploitation of all of the working people of Lithuania. Vytautas dedicated specialized time to working with Soviet authorities to publish and translate revolutionary texts from various authors, as well as delivering his own revolutionary pro-Soviet speeches. He continued this into 1941, the final year of his life. Upon the Nazi invasion of Lithuania in mid-1941, he was captured by local collaborators and Gestapo. According to documents, he did not run or resist, rather instead defiantly, in true revolutionary martyr manner, insulted his captors. He was taken prisoner to the 9th Fort in Kaunas, where he was executed, being shot to death on July 19th, 1941, killed alongside many other Jewish and leftist victims of Nazi and collaborator fascist terror. To leftists who are aware of his heroism and revolutionary martyrdom, he is often compared to fellow revolutionary and Spanish poet F. Garcia Lorca, a leftist whom was executed by the Francoists. Vytautas, Lorca, and all revolutionaries shall be remembered forever. May we remember Vytautas Montvila, a hero to all Lithuanians, but especially to Lithuanians in the diaspora! Remember Vytautas Montvila, both uniquely a hero to Lithuanian-Americans, and the people of Lithuania! |
2024.05.18 21:05 Definition_Novel Vytautas Montvila: the Lithuanian Diaspora’s true unsung hero.
 | In the age of current mass glorification via media from Lithuania and the United States of diaspora Lithuanian fascists like Adolfas Ramanauskas (Ramanauskas was born in New Britain, Connecticut, USA and later moved to Lithuania, later collaborating with Nazis during their invasion) or Lithuanian exile fascists like Jonas Mekas, few diaspora Lithuanians remember the names of revolutionary socialist Lithuanian diaspora heroes like Vytautas Montvila or Antanas Bimba. Antanas Bimba was a Lithuanian involved in the early American Communist movement, and a post will be made for him sometime later. As for the story of Montvila, It is up to Lithuanians everywhere to give this man his credit as a hero and martyr against fascism. Vytautas was born to to an ethnic Lithuanian Catholic immigrant family in 1902 in the city of St. Charles, Illinois. His family, like many Lithuanian immigrants to America at the time, left due to persecution by czarist Russian Empire authorities, whom sought to ban Lithuanian language as well as restrict the Catholic Church in favor of Orthodoxy. This persecution under czarism caused many minorities, particularly ethnic Lithuanian Catholics and Lithuanian Jews, to move often to the United States, Canada, or South American nations. In 1906, he and his family returned to Lithuania, moving to the city of Marijampolė. The family later moved to Degučiai, then a Marijampolė suburb. submitted by Definition_Novel to sendinthetanks [link] [comments] As Vytautas grew older, between the years of 1922-26 he joined the Kėdainiai Teacher’s Seminary. It was somewhat of a social club for study, covering a wide range of topics, such as science, culture, atheism, and philosophy. Members were of various political parties, but it was here Vytautas became acquainted with local Communist activists and gained entry into the wider movement. The communists at these meetings often discussed Marxist theory, offered to share sections of the Communist Manifesto, and recruited members into local Worker’s Guilds. In 1923, he began writing his early poetry, often revolutionary in nature and influenced by avant-garde style. In his most famous poem, “Naktys be Nakvynės” (ENG: “Nights Without Accommodation”), written early in his career, he champions revolutionary socialism and personifies art of poetry as a tool for revolution. His later work from 1940-41 reflects the new Soviet period, condemns the reactionary past, hoping towards a socialist future in Lithuania. These later poems were influenced heavily by the works of fellow Soviet poet V. Mayakovsky, whose works Montvila enjoyed. These later works by Montvila were of a topical oratorical style, and he is credited often with having laid the foundation for other Lithuanian Soviet poets at the time. Montvila also wrote short stories and portions of novels. Among other feats, he translated the novel “Mother” by fellow Soviet writer Maxim Gorky, from Russian into Lithuanian, as well as translated the writer Émile Zola’s novel “The Collapse” from its original French into Lithuanian. He shortly then studied in the Faculty of Humanities at the University of Lithuania (Today, Vytautas Magnus University in Kaunas). Following his departure from university, he began a life fully committed to revolutionary socialist activism. In 1929, in an effort to organizationally unify leftist writers against the bourgeoisie, he published the revolutionary almanac “Raketa” (ENG: “Rocket.”) For this, he was imprisoned from his arrest in 1929 to 1931. During 1935, he moved back to Marijampolė, and published the “Skardas” (ENG: “Tin”) worker’s newspaper for the Communist faction of the Lithuanian Social Democratic Party. He also published other socialist newspapers, titled “Darbas” (ENG: “Work”), “Kultūra” (ENG: “Culture”), “Aušrine” (ENG: “Dawn”), and “Prošvaistė” (ENG: “The Light”) for various leftist organizations. He simultaneously worked odd jobs to add to his livelihood. Upon establishment of the Soviet Lithuanian government in 1940, Montvila, like many leftist Lithuanian citizens, was thrilled and ready for change, having been oppressed in a society previously plagued by issues such as anti-communism, rural serfdom, clerical fascism, anti-Semitism, and capitalist exploitation of all of the working people of Lithuania. Vytautas dedicated specialized time to working with Soviet authorities to publish and translate revolutionary texts from various authors, as well as delivering his own revolutionary pro-Soviet speeches. He continued this into 1941, the final year of his life. Upon the Nazi invasion of Lithuania in mid-1941, he was captured by local collaborators and Gestapo. According to documents, he did not run or resist, rather instead defiantly, in true revolutionary martyr manner, insulted his captors. He was taken prisoner to the 9th Fort in Kaunas, where he was executed, being shot to death on July 19th, 1941, killed alongside many other Jewish and leftist victims of Nazi and collaborator fascist terror. To leftists who are aware of his heroism and revolutionary martyrdom, he is often compared to fellow revolutionary and Spanish poet F. Garcia Lorca, a leftist whom was executed by the Francoists. Vytautas, Lorca, and all revolutionaries shall be remembered forever. May we remember Vytautas Montvila, a hero to all Lithuanians, but especially to Lithuanians in the diaspora! Remember Vytautas Montvila, both uniquely a hero to Lithuanian-Americans, and the people of Lithuania! |
2024.05.18 20:40 Key-Operation-6352 I’m considering outing my double-life to parents
I’m (18M) strongly considering outing the double life I’ve been living to my parents. I’m going through a rough time, in which my ex broke up with me because of mistakes I made, I apologized and tried to get her back, and asked to take her out on a date in 3 months to which she said she’s open to it, but I wrote this poem (about how it’s admirable to love even though heartbreak is common) that I put on my story for her to read (story instead of directly to her because she said she wants to keep her distance), and she had a negative reaction to it given that she removed me from her private instagram. She also was reposting stuff about how niggas ain’t shit and love-bombing. I messed up by even trying to indirectly say how I was feeling to her. I should’ve just kept my distance, but I can’t take back the past. In addition to this, my sister stopped attending meetings, and my parents don’t want me or my sibling to go to her house anymore or keep more than basic contact with her. I’m at a crossroad in which I don’t want to be a part of the religion, but I also don’t want to hurt anymore people I love. I hurt my ex, and I don’t also want to hurt my mom, who feels like she’s basically lost my sister. I know I need a therapist, but I struggle to bring it up to my parents. It hurts, and I feel like I’m losing myself. Losing my ex made me realize that I need to stop being so dependent on others. I felt like she was the only one who understood me, but I was wrong. I feel like just pouring out everything to my parents, but I don’t want to lose them, or make them tighten their grasps on me and try to force me even more to be a JW. I used to rarely cry, but now I cry in the shower often. I feel like I lost one half of my life, and I’m not happy in this half of my life that I’m currently in. It feels like if I got my ex back everything would be alright, but I know that even if she did (not likely), the mindset I currently have isn’t right.
submitted by Key-Operation-6352 to exjw [link] [comments]
2024.05.18 20:36 AdamLuyan 1 Children Marriage Contract
 | 🔗 Catalog of Layan’s Memoirs：1 Children Marriage Contract；2 Revelation；3 Flesh Eye Through；4 Youngster；5 Liaoning Branch；6 SYHP Housekeeping Bureau；7 Northeastern University；8 Death with Eyes Open；9 Middle Age；10 Fate Through；11 Tree of Life；12 Meditation；13 Bitter Crux；14 Aggregate Crux；15 Salvation Crux；16 Path Crux；17 Translation of Heart Sutra and Diamond Sutra；18 The Sun Stone submitted by AdamLuyan to LifeTree [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/171o30iza81d1.jpg?width=1528&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=74e176c3f536873d3723fa4734b9da88ca4473f2 My name is Luyan, I was born in April 1970, in the village of Qingtaipao, Jinzhou City, China. My father was an electrical technician in a nearby brick factory. Mom was a farmer. One day in September 1971, A guest came to our home, whom my father called Old Brother Liu from Shenyang (1). Dad said to mom: “Troupe Leader Liu knows physiognomy, and I want him to have a look our Luyan." Mom was impatient. Dad added: "Troupe Leader Liu is not a stranger, you should be more enthusiastic! he said, ‘He should not have Luyan seen him, otherwise it won't work'.” Mom and Dad went out of the bedroom. The three of them were whispering in the kitchen. Troupe Leader Liu asked about my birth date. Note 1, at this time, he was the deputy chief of the Northeast Military Region's Cultural Troupe, about 40 years old, a division officer. He is commonly referred to in this book as Troupe Leader Liu. Before and after this story, I couldn't hear his voice. He spoke in ancient Han; I heard what they were doing from my father's explanation to my mother. (2) Troupe Leader Liu said he wanted to see me and wrinkled the curtain between the kitchen and the bedroom. I didn't see him. Dad explained to mom what he said, "That wantonness he's sitting on, the high beam nose to forehead, is a monk's fate, no marriage life." "What does that mean, no marriage? He can't get married for the rest of his life?" Mom asked. After dad inquired with Troupe Leader Liu, explained to mom: "It is possible to get married, but the marriage is not happy or long-lasting." Mom got upset after hearing that and came inside. My dad and Troupe Leader Liu were talking outside. After a while, Dad came into the bedroom and said to mom, "Why did you just leave!" Mom replied: "He's godly! Who believes that nowadays." Dad said: "People can see that, and you're not happy to hear it! He also told me that he was just speaking straight from his heart according to what the ancient books say, just directly speaking what he deemed truth. You shouldn’t be like that! If you don't believe, it's okay to just listen! You come out and talk together!" Mom followed Dad out, asking as she walked: "What is it again?" In the kitchen, Dad said to Mom: "Troupe Leader Liu said that his eldest daughter, Jianjun Liu (Eve Liu), is a sky fate (Goddess fate), gifted and smart, but also has a destined bad marriage life. He wants to betroth her to our Luyan; says the two are quite compatible. By tying them together as a pair (2), both of their bad marriage destinies will be broken." https://preview.redd.it/lgyvzyx2b81d1.jpg?width=563&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=9bcc9878878ae915ae7f74f256942d2a2eeacd94 Note 2, Illustrations 1-2 are Ometeotl, the god of world creation, from Chapter 18 “The Sun Stone” of this book; they are Tlaloc, the Mexican god of rain, and Chalchiuhtlicue, the mother of all living beings. The red thread around their ankles indicates that they are bound as husband and wife by Huitzilopochtli, the father of Mexico. How is the Huitzilopochtli tied? This is a big project that takes three generations to spend 100 years on; the blindfolding below is the first step in transferring it to the third generation. Mom replied: "Look at his appearance! What can his daughter look like!" Dad said: "That's just saying, his family is well off. Besides, his appearance is not good, his wife might be pretty!" Mom said: "His family is doing well now. In this society, twenty years later, who knows what will happen!" Dad said: "It's not good to refuse someone's offer. Besides, this is just a saying, in the future, the two children will become a couple or not, is the matter of the two of them. Now, we are trying to break Luyan’s bad marriage fate!" 3 Blindfolding A little later, Dad and Troupe Leader Liu returned to the kitchen. Troupe Leader Liu said, "If I'm right, the boy will cry as soon as he sees me; however, he can only see me this one time." Mom was in the back, and when she heard that, said, "There's that! Let's try it then! It won't hurt to see him once anyway." They arranged the subsequent experiment in a whisper. Troupe Leader Liu added, “Then I'll blindfold him.” Dad and mom both said they didn't understand. Troupe Leader Liu said, “Oops! I just remembered that I can't let him see me again in the future!” After thinking for a while, he added, “It's okay! I'll arrange for someone to uncover the blindfold later.” Mom said unhappily, "Why it doesn't matter!" Dad smiled and said, "We don't understand, but if Troupe Leader Liu said it doesn't matter, then it doesn't matter!" At that time, I was sitting on the bed in the bedroom; a man came in and walked straight into the inner room. Soon I forgot about it. Suddenly, he came out and walked directly toward me face to face, his face bloodless and expressionless. My mind exploded at the sight, before I could react. He floated back to the center of the house floor, and quickly turned toward the kitchen and out. Frightened, I crawled desperately toward the southeast of the bed, howling! https://preview.redd.it/tsabhoa7b81d1.jpg?width=2024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=78b1d79a17027b739b27df7bf429fc45773ed0dc Note 3, this paragraph describes the first step of the “Flesh Eye Through”: He approached me quickly, and as I watched, I felt as if the camera lens were focusing quickly, and my head felt as if it were going to explode. The shock caused me to fall in “children neurodevelopmental disorder”. One symptom of this disorder is visual impairment, which the ancients said blindfolded the eyes. The process of Revelation is in section 2.8; chapter 3 discussed more about the process of making “Flesh Eye Through”. Illustrations 1-3, left, are of ancient Mexican origin and represent the third step of the Flesh Eye Through practice, which Huitzilopochtli is lecturing to his godson. Figure 2 shows Tlaloc, whose eyes, in author my own opinion, are the ancient Mexican description of "non-dazzle" feature of the eyes. Figure 3 is a bronze mask unearthed at Sanxingdui in China, in author my own opinion, that is a description of the eyes of the “Flesh Eye Through” as “touching eyes”, i.e., the person who sees it may have the feeling of "being touched”, "being electrocuted". In the kitchen, mom was surprised and said: "Oops! Really crying! What to do!" Dad said, "We agreed, you go in and comfort him!" Mom ran into the house and shouted, "What's wrong? What's wrong?" I crawled to the edge of the bed and hugged mom, crying. Dad also came in. Mom said angrily, "He was scared! We were both away and suddenly he saw a stranger. Look! Oh! My God! His hairs are standing on end! He scared the kid!" Dad said, "Troupe Leader Liu asked you to ask." Mom asked, "What? Ah! What's wrong? Tell mom, what's going on?" I just, “Woo, woo!” gesticulated and couldn't speak. Mom muttered angrily, "Just scared! This can't even speak anymore!” Mom stroked my head, and continually said, “All right! Ok! Tell mom, what did you see?” I replied, "Man! Woo! Woo!”, gesturing with my hands. Mom said to me, "Ah! A man came in and then went out again. It's okay, your dad and I know about it!" 4 Marriage Contract is sealed. Dad went to the kitchen, came back a while later, and said to mom, "Troupe Leader Liu went out and asked us to discuss the two children's affairs." https://preview.redd.it/wuwnwhgcb81d1.jpg?width=500&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=ddbea008ef1df6a0346185fd99a5fbe53c3944e6 Mom said, "Like you said, it's not a big deal. How much does he want?" Dad said, “He didn't say anything about money! It isn’t about money, is it?” Mom said, "It's better to ask." The three of them were talking in the kitchen. Troupe Leader Liu said, "Then the marriage is settled! There's no need for any money. This matter also concerns my girl! It's also my business, so I'll make the law (do the magic)." Dad asked, "What should we do then?" Troupe Leader Liu said, "I'll tell you later. While you were discussing this matter, I did something outside. Now, half of their Fates have been broken. The rest of the “Making Laws” (western similar words: to do magic) will be done outside somewhere in the future, might not in your house." Dad said, "It's great that little Luyan will be able to get married in the future! Good Job! It’s all thanks to big brother's hard work!” 5 Vision Test Some days later, my dad had just returned from work and was talking to my mom. The bedroom opening in my house is about 6.5 meters by 3.3 meters; however, I was surrounded by white fog and couldn't see them. Mom said: "Eve Liu gives gift to Luyan! Quickly let him have a look!”. https://preview.redd.it/aodg8wkhb81d1.jpg?width=300&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=aac570f83a965f228996f2e742ef480f8924e0c0 When I crawled very close to my dad, saw the two toys he brought back: a yellow plastic gyro and a red ornate stick with spots of various colors. As I recall now, at that time, I could see a place 0.5m away and 0.9m in diameter, surrounded by white fog (note 5, this is a symptom of children neurodevelopmental disorder). I could only see half the width of my dad's body, not my mom. It is now estimated that I can't be more than 1.4m away from mom. Mom said to Dad, "Looks like the kid has an eye problem! Getting down that close to see!" 6 Eve Liu Another day, I was sitting on the bed in our bedroom, and my father said to my mother with a smile, “The other guy, that who, went to Shenyang and saw the Troupe Leader Liu. His family is doing well. I even asked him about his big girl (i.e., Eve Liu). How old is she!? She runs around, is not afraid of strangers, talks to people when she sees them, recites poems, sings songs, and can-do arithmetic within 100.” Mom replied, “You still remember! She goes to a daycare center or kindergarten! I've heard that's where people are taught. What does that kid look like?” Dad replied, "That I didn't ask." Mom laughed and said, “You hid it from me!" Turning to me and said, "This little man, has a wife in the big city. In the future, after we go to school, we'll study hard and be better than her, we look down her! We're not going to climb up that high branch!” Dad said, “Why don't you know? I couldn't ask. All he said was that the little girl was so smart, not afraid of strangers, and ran around the front and back yards. Such a little girl! Who can say she looks ugly!?” Mom went into the inner room and stopped talking. At that time, I really wanted to listen. Mom noticed and said to Dad, “Little Luyan probably understands this! As soon as we talked Eve Liu, he stared and concentrated, listening very carefully!" It seems that by this time, my eyesight had returned to near normal. ↪️ |
2024.05.18 20:36 decoparts Personal Hodling story- Trigger Warning; cancer
It's been a hell of a week.
I've been holding this story to myself for my entire stonks adventure. I've written it up a few times and deleted before I posted it, but I had a few drinks last night and typed it up again, and the return of the hype has me introspective.
I lost my little brother to cancer in the late '90s. Leukemia, or to be more specific cascading organ failure due to the side effects of chemo.
I was a sophomore in college when he died. He was 18.
Growing up, I was a car guy, but he was a console gamer and an artist, a pokemon collector and anime fan. From the time I was in middle school and he was in 5th grade my parents would let us walk together to the mall about 2-1/2 miles away on the weekends or during school breaks. We were supposed to stick together, but we'd usually split up and hang out with our friends.
Our usual spot to meet up for the walk home was GameStop. It was his favorite place to go. I'm pretty sure there were a lot of times he just hung out there for a few hours browsing games and playing demos. The cashiers knew him by name.
After spending the afternoon at the mall we'd meet up at GameStop, grab a slice or two for dinner at Sbarro's in the food court, and walk home before it got TOO dark out. A lot of times we'd swing over to Blockbuster across from the mall if it was summer and we still had light. When my parents were having a hard time financially I'd use some of the money I got from mowing lawns and working at the gas station and tell him it was our allowance from mom. I'm not sure if he ever caught on.
"I'll meet you at GameStop at 6". I can't even imagine how many times I said that. He liked to talk with hands, so a lot of times I'd end up holding his games as well as my bag with a model car from Kay-Bee or some Testors model paint from the Hobby store, sometimes a Lambo poster or supermodel poster or techno-junk trinket from Hot Topic. He'd usually want to see what I got, and then he would ramble all the way home about some new game he was excited about, or tips he got on how to beat the most recent Nintendo game we had.
He was a little bit of a budding entrepreneur- he'd reserve every game they released and sell the ones he didn't want to his friends at school. He really loved drawing, especially anime, and we found out later he was also supplementing his income drawing titty pics for his friends for a few bucks. Good Lord, the fallout from that!
I was in college out of state when he got sick. The summer after my Freshman year. I ditched my summer internship before it started and came home to be a bone marrow donor. By the time fall semester rolled around it seemed like he was getting better. When I came home for Christmas break I got to take him to GameStop in the mall to spend his giftcards and the cash he got. He was in a mask (way before Covid) because his immune system wasn't working right but he wanted to go in person so bad that my parents gave the OK. It was the last place I went with him that wasn't the hospital. The last time I had a meaningful conversation with him was on the drive back from the mall. We talked about where he wanted to go to college, about how he felt about graduating high school next year, and about the girl he liked. We drove around aimlessly for a while talking before we finally headed home.
I went back to college a few days later. Worked a summer internship away from home that year and then started my Sophomore year. Just before Thanksgiving, he suddenly got very sick and went into a coma, which he never came out of. We never did get a satisfactory explanation for it, just "these things sometimes happen after chemo."
I stumbled across the DFV saga on the WaSaBi sub in the early days of the sneeze and it set off something in me. It was a perfect storm of emotions reading through the DD and stories- Not only were these Hedgie bastards going after my little bro's favorite hangout, there was also the same flavor of corruption that we all gagged on in the '08 housing crisis. All the soulless corporate raiding and underhanded crap, all the sleaze and outright cheating.
I bought in with all the cash I could afford to lose. I haven't sold. I used to have other hobbies but now I buy GME and shop at my local GameStop stores. I have found a few things I enjoy, and I have kids to shop for, so I plan to support as best I can for a long time to come.
Here's what I don't think the Hedgies got at first, maybe they still can't comprehend. For some of us Apes, maybe even a majority, it isn't really just about the money. I think for maybe a whole a lot of us, it's not about the money at all anymore, even if it started out that way.
And the Hedgies can't win because we are not playing the same game.
I'll keep Hodling for you.
I'll meet you at GameStop, Bro.
submitted by decoparts to Superstonk [link] [comments]
I've been holding this story to myself for my entire stonks adventure. I've written it up a few times and deleted before I posted it, but I had a few drinks last night and typed it up again, and the return of the hype has me introspective.
I lost my little brother to cancer in the late '90s. Leukemia, or to be more specific cascading organ failure due to the side effects of chemo.
I was a sophomore in college when he died. He was 18.
Growing up, I was a car guy, but he was a console gamer and an artist, a pokemon collector and anime fan. From the time I was in middle school and he was in 5th grade my parents would let us walk together to the mall about 2-1/2 miles away on the weekends or during school breaks. We were supposed to stick together, but we'd usually split up and hang out with our friends.
Our usual spot to meet up for the walk home was GameStop. It was his favorite place to go. I'm pretty sure there were a lot of times he just hung out there for a few hours browsing games and playing demos. The cashiers knew him by name.
After spending the afternoon at the mall we'd meet up at GameStop, grab a slice or two for dinner at Sbarro's in the food court, and walk home before it got TOO dark out. A lot of times we'd swing over to Blockbuster across from the mall if it was summer and we still had light. When my parents were having a hard time financially I'd use some of the money I got from mowing lawns and working at the gas station and tell him it was our allowance from mom. I'm not sure if he ever caught on.
"I'll meet you at GameStop at 6". I can't even imagine how many times I said that. He liked to talk with hands, so a lot of times I'd end up holding his games as well as my bag with a model car from Kay-Bee or some Testors model paint from the Hobby store, sometimes a Lambo poster or supermodel poster or techno-junk trinket from Hot Topic. He'd usually want to see what I got, and then he would ramble all the way home about some new game he was excited about, or tips he got on how to beat the most recent Nintendo game we had.
He was a little bit of a budding entrepreneur- he'd reserve every game they released and sell the ones he didn't want to his friends at school. He really loved drawing, especially anime, and we found out later he was also supplementing his income drawing titty pics for his friends for a few bucks. Good Lord, the fallout from that!
I was in college out of state when he got sick. The summer after my Freshman year. I ditched my summer internship before it started and came home to be a bone marrow donor. By the time fall semester rolled around it seemed like he was getting better. When I came home for Christmas break I got to take him to GameStop in the mall to spend his giftcards and the cash he got. He was in a mask (way before Covid) because his immune system wasn't working right but he wanted to go in person so bad that my parents gave the OK. It was the last place I went with him that wasn't the hospital. The last time I had a meaningful conversation with him was on the drive back from the mall. We talked about where he wanted to go to college, about how he felt about graduating high school next year, and about the girl he liked. We drove around aimlessly for a while talking before we finally headed home.
I went back to college a few days later. Worked a summer internship away from home that year and then started my Sophomore year. Just before Thanksgiving, he suddenly got very sick and went into a coma, which he never came out of. We never did get a satisfactory explanation for it, just "these things sometimes happen after chemo."
I stumbled across the DFV saga on the WaSaBi sub in the early days of the sneeze and it set off something in me. It was a perfect storm of emotions reading through the DD and stories- Not only were these Hedgie bastards going after my little bro's favorite hangout, there was also the same flavor of corruption that we all gagged on in the '08 housing crisis. All the soulless corporate raiding and underhanded crap, all the sleaze and outright cheating.
I bought in with all the cash I could afford to lose. I haven't sold. I used to have other hobbies but now I buy GME and shop at my local GameStop stores. I have found a few things I enjoy, and I have kids to shop for, so I plan to support as best I can for a long time to come.
Here's what I don't think the Hedgies got at first, maybe they still can't comprehend. For some of us Apes, maybe even a majority, it isn't really just about the money. I think for maybe a whole a lot of us, it's not about the money at all anymore, even if it started out that way.
And the Hedgies can't win because we are not playing the same game.
I'll keep Hodling for you.
I'll meet you at GameStop, Bro.
2024.05.18 20:33 Unlawfulfoetus109764 How's this poetry essay, too late for my teacher to mark it so though i'd ask for your thoughts
How do the poets present the effects of conflict in Poppies and one other poem?
In this essay, I am going to explore how Jane Weir presents conflict as affecting someone not directly involved in war by analysing how Weir presents the mother of a young soldier feeling during a war. I will contrast this by discussing how Simon Armitage presents someone directly involved in the Iraq War (Guardsman Tromans) as being mentally scarred by his involvement. I will mainly focus on how war effects people emotionally / mentally, whilst also exploring how Armitage presents the physical effects of conflict in Remains. Additonally, i will consider how the idea of propaganda during wartime affects how people feel about the conflict.
In Poppies, Weir decided to make the poem be through the lens of a mother. The name of the mother or son is never given, rather she utilises vague pronouns such as “You” to describe the son, perhaps this was deliberate as to make the poem reflect a universal experience, which may highlight how many people conflict can effect, therefore presenting conflict as having a major effect, not just on the people fighting it, but everyone. Also, “Armistice Sunday” is a combination of Armistice Day and Rememberance Sunday, perhaps Weir has left the war being remembered ambiguous, as to increase the number of people who share this experience, yet again foregrounding the sheer number of people who have felt this way. It creates the impression that Weir has made this poem to act as a microcosm for the shared experience of every mother with a young son going to war, therefore reflecting the sadness and fear those not fighting in the war feel, raising the awareness of this issue to those who hadn’t considered it as a result. In contrast Armitage created Remains to highlight the experience and effect of conflict on only one person – Guardsman Tromans. Remains juxtaposes Poppies, since Remains cannot really be seen as an attempt by Armitage to reflect a common experience from war. This is because the poem can literally be viewed as a first hand account from Tromans himself. This may be indicated by the fact that Armitage has made the poem have an unreliable narrator, which can be interpreted as Tromans himself trying to distance himself from the “looter” that he killed, as if it will alleviate him from the guilt and psychological effects of the killing. This is seen at the start of the poem where the looter is described as being “Probably armed, possibly not.”. Here, two adverbs “Probably...possibly” are utilised in short succession to foreground how Tromans is trying to make himself believe that the looter was a danger to him, which would give him a reason to kill the looter, however, the comma acting as a hesitation and “Possibly not” suggests Tromans believes the looter couldn’t hurt them. When coupled with the fact that Tromans is so clearly emotionally disturbed by this moment, one can interpret that the man was not armed, perhaps being the reason for Tromans guilt.
Also, in the first half of Remains Armitage presents the physical effects of conflict by describing the brutal murder of the looter. He creates a semantic field of agony and suffering which contrasts the playful imagery created before “Tackle some looters...”. As a result the death of the looter is foregrounded via the juxtaposition, as it would have made the reader shocked. Also, the verb “Tackle” suggests that Tromans before the murder may have not viewed war that seriously, perhaps indicating he has been so greatly disturbed by the murder as it made him realise the war was real. It also gives connotations to the WWI propaganda poet Jessie Pope, who convinced many young men that war was “a game”. The idea of propaganda affecting people during conflict is explored in Poppies too. In the first two stanzas it is unclear whether the mother is sending a child of to school, or a young man to war. This may suggest how the mother was affected by propaganda, since she is not immediately frightened by her son going to war. Additionally, the son is described as being “Intoxicated” when the world is presented to him. This verb may suggest the young man as being almost drunk on excitement, like he himself believes that the war will be a fun game, rather than a horror. Whilst it may seem the mother also believes the war may be a “game”, Weir utilises biblical imagery through the hair of the boy being described as “gelled blackthorns”. “Blackthorns” may allude to the crown of thorns Jesus wore during his crucifixion. As a result, it could be inferred that the Mother thinks her son is being sent to war as a sacrificial lamb, undergoing great pain to ultimately assist in salvation (ending the war).
As discussed earlier, Armitage creates a semantic field of agony through the way he describes the looter’s death in Remains. An example of how this is achieved is through the declarative metaphor “I swear, I see broard daylight on the other side”. “I swear” suggests that Tromans wholeheartedly knows the severity of the murder. This further suggests just how significant the mental effects of the war have been on Tromans, as he has replayed this scene so many times he is fully sure this happened. “Broard daylight” is visceral imagery created by Armitage, suggesting the man was shot so many times there is a hole big enough to see daylight on the other side. This is coupled with the euphemism “Sort of inside out”, this almost suggests that the looter was in such a bad state that Tromans cannot even bring himself to describe the image, or that his vocabulary is this limited, which foregrounds how this experience is uniquely his, as the narrative voice reflects Tromans own. By using these techniques, Armitage presents the physical effects of war as being strong enough not just to kill someone, but to completely destroy the body itself.
Finally, both of the poets highlight how the effects of war are long-lasting on those affected. In Remains, Tromans’ PTSD is shown in the second half of the poem. This is after the volta “And then I’m on leave”, Armitage suddenly includes a volta after the description of the murder to show Tromans’ poor psyche due to his PTSD. Whilst in the first half, Tromans clearly recounts his experience with high detail, the second half shifts in topic and location suddenly, suggesting that Tromans is entering and exiting the world, perhaps the “drink and drugs” he is self medicating with are causing him to lose large track of time. But i think Armitage does this to show how Tromans’ PTSD occurs so often and suddenly. It also explains how Tromans is able to recount his experience in Iraq so clearly. As he has replayed the moment so many times, showing how conflict affects people long after the fact. Similarly, in Poppies the mother hopes to hear her son’s “Playground voice”. This suggests the mother wanting to remember her son as a child, we can interpret he is dead as she is at the “war memorial”. By doing this, Weir creates the impression that the Mother has, and never will have closure regarding her son’s death, as she wants to hear him one more time. We can infer his death was a result of war, therefore showing how war effects people after it has ended, since people are still grieving for those who died in the process.
In conclusion, both Weir and Armitage present war as having long-lasting powerful effects, both emotionally and physically in Armitage’s case. They present how war has wide-reaching effects, as well as arguably stronger effects on individuals directly involved in conflict. The theme of propaganda stemming from conflict affecting people is also suggested in both poems.
submitted by Unlawfulfoetus109764 to GCSE [link] [comments]
In this essay, I am going to explore how Jane Weir presents conflict as affecting someone not directly involved in war by analysing how Weir presents the mother of a young soldier feeling during a war. I will contrast this by discussing how Simon Armitage presents someone directly involved in the Iraq War (Guardsman Tromans) as being mentally scarred by his involvement. I will mainly focus on how war effects people emotionally / mentally, whilst also exploring how Armitage presents the physical effects of conflict in Remains. Additonally, i will consider how the idea of propaganda during wartime affects how people feel about the conflict.
In Poppies, Weir decided to make the poem be through the lens of a mother. The name of the mother or son is never given, rather she utilises vague pronouns such as “You” to describe the son, perhaps this was deliberate as to make the poem reflect a universal experience, which may highlight how many people conflict can effect, therefore presenting conflict as having a major effect, not just on the people fighting it, but everyone. Also, “Armistice Sunday” is a combination of Armistice Day and Rememberance Sunday, perhaps Weir has left the war being remembered ambiguous, as to increase the number of people who share this experience, yet again foregrounding the sheer number of people who have felt this way. It creates the impression that Weir has made this poem to act as a microcosm for the shared experience of every mother with a young son going to war, therefore reflecting the sadness and fear those not fighting in the war feel, raising the awareness of this issue to those who hadn’t considered it as a result. In contrast Armitage created Remains to highlight the experience and effect of conflict on only one person – Guardsman Tromans. Remains juxtaposes Poppies, since Remains cannot really be seen as an attempt by Armitage to reflect a common experience from war. This is because the poem can literally be viewed as a first hand account from Tromans himself. This may be indicated by the fact that Armitage has made the poem have an unreliable narrator, which can be interpreted as Tromans himself trying to distance himself from the “looter” that he killed, as if it will alleviate him from the guilt and psychological effects of the killing. This is seen at the start of the poem where the looter is described as being “Probably armed, possibly not.”. Here, two adverbs “Probably...possibly” are utilised in short succession to foreground how Tromans is trying to make himself believe that the looter was a danger to him, which would give him a reason to kill the looter, however, the comma acting as a hesitation and “Possibly not” suggests Tromans believes the looter couldn’t hurt them. When coupled with the fact that Tromans is so clearly emotionally disturbed by this moment, one can interpret that the man was not armed, perhaps being the reason for Tromans guilt.
Also, in the first half of Remains Armitage presents the physical effects of conflict by describing the brutal murder of the looter. He creates a semantic field of agony and suffering which contrasts the playful imagery created before “Tackle some looters...”. As a result the death of the looter is foregrounded via the juxtaposition, as it would have made the reader shocked. Also, the verb “Tackle” suggests that Tromans before the murder may have not viewed war that seriously, perhaps indicating he has been so greatly disturbed by the murder as it made him realise the war was real. It also gives connotations to the WWI propaganda poet Jessie Pope, who convinced many young men that war was “a game”. The idea of propaganda affecting people during conflict is explored in Poppies too. In the first two stanzas it is unclear whether the mother is sending a child of to school, or a young man to war. This may suggest how the mother was affected by propaganda, since she is not immediately frightened by her son going to war. Additionally, the son is described as being “Intoxicated” when the world is presented to him. This verb may suggest the young man as being almost drunk on excitement, like he himself believes that the war will be a fun game, rather than a horror. Whilst it may seem the mother also believes the war may be a “game”, Weir utilises biblical imagery through the hair of the boy being described as “gelled blackthorns”. “Blackthorns” may allude to the crown of thorns Jesus wore during his crucifixion. As a result, it could be inferred that the Mother thinks her son is being sent to war as a sacrificial lamb, undergoing great pain to ultimately assist in salvation (ending the war).
As discussed earlier, Armitage creates a semantic field of agony through the way he describes the looter’s death in Remains. An example of how this is achieved is through the declarative metaphor “I swear, I see broard daylight on the other side”. “I swear” suggests that Tromans wholeheartedly knows the severity of the murder. This further suggests just how significant the mental effects of the war have been on Tromans, as he has replayed this scene so many times he is fully sure this happened. “Broard daylight” is visceral imagery created by Armitage, suggesting the man was shot so many times there is a hole big enough to see daylight on the other side. This is coupled with the euphemism “Sort of inside out”, this almost suggests that the looter was in such a bad state that Tromans cannot even bring himself to describe the image, or that his vocabulary is this limited, which foregrounds how this experience is uniquely his, as the narrative voice reflects Tromans own. By using these techniques, Armitage presents the physical effects of war as being strong enough not just to kill someone, but to completely destroy the body itself.
Finally, both of the poets highlight how the effects of war are long-lasting on those affected. In Remains, Tromans’ PTSD is shown in the second half of the poem. This is after the volta “And then I’m on leave”, Armitage suddenly includes a volta after the description of the murder to show Tromans’ poor psyche due to his PTSD. Whilst in the first half, Tromans clearly recounts his experience with high detail, the second half shifts in topic and location suddenly, suggesting that Tromans is entering and exiting the world, perhaps the “drink and drugs” he is self medicating with are causing him to lose large track of time. But i think Armitage does this to show how Tromans’ PTSD occurs so often and suddenly. It also explains how Tromans is able to recount his experience in Iraq so clearly. As he has replayed the moment so many times, showing how conflict affects people long after the fact. Similarly, in Poppies the mother hopes to hear her son’s “Playground voice”. This suggests the mother wanting to remember her son as a child, we can interpret he is dead as she is at the “war memorial”. By doing this, Weir creates the impression that the Mother has, and never will have closure regarding her son’s death, as she wants to hear him one more time. We can infer his death was a result of war, therefore showing how war effects people after it has ended, since people are still grieving for those who died in the process.
In conclusion, both Weir and Armitage present war as having long-lasting powerful effects, both emotionally and physically in Armitage’s case. They present how war has wide-reaching effects, as well as arguably stronger effects on individuals directly involved in conflict. The theme of propaganda stemming from conflict affecting people is also suggested in both poems.
2024.05.18 19:56 julinay Fancam Links for Day 2 of Onew's Fanmeet (2PM and 6PM Showings on 5/18)
(Just FYI, these aren't in any particular order, and some songs might have been missed! Fancams for the 6PM showing will be in a comment under this post. Day 1 fancams are here.)
>> 5/18 2PM Show <<
Jinki: “No, I will sing until the very end.”
Here
https://twitter.com/justrolyn/status/1791719296508604634?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g (same as above w/ screen visible)
https://twitter.com/i_became_wintestatus/1791720119879761921?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g (same as above, different angle)
https://twitter.com/shinyview/status/1791717826157215762?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/shinyview/status/1791709604197396970?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g (mouth trumpet part)
https://twitter.com/loleeta718/status/1791708838229598234?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g (starts with Shawols doing Giriboy's rap)
https://twitter.com/o_oo_ooo_oo/status/1791708481835467262?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g (mouth trumpet part)
https://twitter.com/lettet1119/status/1791723234762899960?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/wang_bbbang/status/1791739970962809132?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/geminids_night/status/1791728989775810639?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/shinyview/status/1791710403384230148?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://x.com/sooponew/status/1791738749891842197?
https://twitter.com/o_newnyung/status/1791739222627635471?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/jinkizzang2ya/status/1791745670703177771?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
submitted by julinay to SHINee [link] [comments]
>> 5/18 2PM Show <<
- Resolutions
Jinki: “No, I will sing until the very end.”
Here
- Dance Challenge - Taeyeon’s "To X"
https://twitter.com/justrolyn/status/1791719296508604634?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g (same as above w/ screen visible)
https://twitter.com/i_became_wintestatus/1791720119879761921?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g (same as above, different angle)
- You Sure You Don’t Exercise?
https://twitter.com/shinyview/status/1791717826157215762?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
- Caramel
https://twitter.com/shinyview/status/1791709604197396970?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g (mouth trumpet part)
https://twitter.com/loleeta718/status/1791708838229598234?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g (starts with Shawols doing Giriboy's rap)
https://twitter.com/o_oo_ooo_oo/status/1791708481835467262?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g (mouth trumpet part)
- MTWThFSSu (New Song & unofficial title)
https://twitter.com/lettet1119/status/1791723234762899960?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
- On The Way
https://twitter.com/wang_bbbang/status/1791739970962809132?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
- In Your Eyes (+ Shawols singing like angels)
https://twitter.com/geminids_night/status/1791728989775810639?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
- Cover of Bibi’s "Bam Yang Gang"
https://twitter.com/shinyview/status/1791710403384230148?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
- O (Circle)
https://x.com/sooponew/status/1791738749891842197?
- Being Generally Cute
- DICE
https://twitter.com/o_newnyung/status/1791739222627635471?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
https://twitter.com/jinkizzang2ya/status/1791745670703177771?s=46&t=y73hUBOW1FMaLyGiUET08g
- Fan Event (Fans wrote acrostic poems with his name)
2024.05.18 19:45 First_Psychology_532 I don't know how to move forward
Hi everyone, I'm new here but have lurked.
I (26F) grew up in a home with my Nmom and dad and brother. My Nmom ruled the house. My childhood memories are filled with all of the times she would lash out at us and make us cry and control every move we made. I remember every time I would hear her car pull up, I would run into my room and close the door and hide. She hoarded and my house was filled with stacks of her belongings and rotten food and bugs. If I ever tried to clean it, she would get mad and pull rotten food out of the garbage. She always got the nicest things for herself, but often I didn't get the things that I wanted - I had to give a lot of attention to get clothes that fit me or other things I needed. My things were often dirty, my hair would get matted. I washed my clothes in the sink so I wouldn't smell at school. I didn't go to doctors when I was sick because she knew best. There were times where I desperately needed medication or antibiotics. I suffered through cellulitis (using up someone else's antibiotics so I could keep my arm), a menstrual hemorrhage that caused me to become so iron deficient I kept passing out, and had gaping wounds that should have been stitched up. She didn't stay home with me from school when I was sick or drive me places or go to school events because parenting me was such an inconvenience. She would often bring up how many sleepless nights she had with me when I was a baby and was resentful that I would always cry when she would be near me and said I didn't like her from the beginning.
I wasn't allowed to cry or be upset - that was very bad. I was probably called "ungrateful" about once every day, usually followed by some form of cursing. She drank quite a bit. I got the silent treatment, often time for days at a time when she was made about something, even if it had nothing to do with me. She played me and my brother against me - one of us was always the favorite who got love and attention and the other one was the bad one. It switched back and forth quite a bit. Her opinion was always the right one - everyone else didn't know what they were doing.
I ended up staying at a lot of my friend's houses from the time I was really young to escape it. A lot of people played mom for me and it helped me to turn out into a somewhat functioning adult, although I still have a lot of issues with intimacy and vulnerability. I tried for many years in my late teens through my 20s to learn to live with my parents and find a way to make peace. There were stints that it worked out ok. The older I got, the better I got at keeping them far enough away to avoid them controlling my life. I could see them for maybe an hour a week and update them on work, my pets, etc, while avoiding topics that they didn't have the right to know about. And then I could pretend we were a normal family, which is really all I ever wanted.
Recently, I came out to my mom about my sexuality. I wasn't planning on it, but she kept asking over and over again while we were spending time together one day. I finally gave in and she continued to berate and ask me specific questions about my sex life. I told her that I wasn't going to give her that information and she said "You haven't even tried [to be straight]. I can find you a nice boy. Where have you even been looking?" And it opened up all the trauma from my past. Never being good enough. Never being loved for who I was. Always worried about what other people would think or how it would make her look. I don't think I can look at her or speak to her again and I just keep thinking about how I'm going to avoid seeing her and when she's going to text me next.
submitted by First_Psychology_532 to raisedbynarcissists [link] [comments]
I (26F) grew up in a home with my Nmom and dad and brother. My Nmom ruled the house. My childhood memories are filled with all of the times she would lash out at us and make us cry and control every move we made. I remember every time I would hear her car pull up, I would run into my room and close the door and hide. She hoarded and my house was filled with stacks of her belongings and rotten food and bugs. If I ever tried to clean it, she would get mad and pull rotten food out of the garbage. She always got the nicest things for herself, but often I didn't get the things that I wanted - I had to give a lot of attention to get clothes that fit me or other things I needed. My things were often dirty, my hair would get matted. I washed my clothes in the sink so I wouldn't smell at school. I didn't go to doctors when I was sick because she knew best. There were times where I desperately needed medication or antibiotics. I suffered through cellulitis (using up someone else's antibiotics so I could keep my arm), a menstrual hemorrhage that caused me to become so iron deficient I kept passing out, and had gaping wounds that should have been stitched up. She didn't stay home with me from school when I was sick or drive me places or go to school events because parenting me was such an inconvenience. She would often bring up how many sleepless nights she had with me when I was a baby and was resentful that I would always cry when she would be near me and said I didn't like her from the beginning.
I wasn't allowed to cry or be upset - that was very bad. I was probably called "ungrateful" about once every day, usually followed by some form of cursing. She drank quite a bit. I got the silent treatment, often time for days at a time when she was made about something, even if it had nothing to do with me. She played me and my brother against me - one of us was always the favorite who got love and attention and the other one was the bad one. It switched back and forth quite a bit. Her opinion was always the right one - everyone else didn't know what they were doing.
I ended up staying at a lot of my friend's houses from the time I was really young to escape it. A lot of people played mom for me and it helped me to turn out into a somewhat functioning adult, although I still have a lot of issues with intimacy and vulnerability. I tried for many years in my late teens through my 20s to learn to live with my parents and find a way to make peace. There were stints that it worked out ok. The older I got, the better I got at keeping them far enough away to avoid them controlling my life. I could see them for maybe an hour a week and update them on work, my pets, etc, while avoiding topics that they didn't have the right to know about. And then I could pretend we were a normal family, which is really all I ever wanted.
Recently, I came out to my mom about my sexuality. I wasn't planning on it, but she kept asking over and over again while we were spending time together one day. I finally gave in and she continued to berate and ask me specific questions about my sex life. I told her that I wasn't going to give her that information and she said "You haven't even tried [to be straight]. I can find you a nice boy. Where have you even been looking?" And it opened up all the trauma from my past. Never being good enough. Never being loved for who I was. Always worried about what other people would think or how it would make her look. I don't think I can look at her or speak to her again and I just keep thinking about how I'm going to avoid seeing her and when she's going to text me next.
2024.05.18 19:40 Ok-Assistance-1860 Medusa - Taylor's Female Rage Narrative
 | Hat tip to u/rotty-mom for noting that today's scheduled photo release shows Taylor carrying the Versace Medusa bag reissue. submitted by Ok-Assistance-1860 to GaylorSwift [link] [comments] Taylor has worn several Medusa items over the past few months, including a pair of Versace sandals that Taylor Swift Style notes are very similar to ones made by Stella McCartney. So why Versace not Stella? Medusa is a theme, maybe even a song, on RepTV. Medusa Symbolism- Medusa is of course a woman who was accused of having sex with a god when in fact she was r*ped & then slut shamed by a woman in the worst way, having her hair turned to snakes. The story is often told from the male perspective, she's a snake haired bitch who turns men to stone. In reality, she was violated by someone she thought was her friend and instead of empathy, she was betrayed by a woman. Hmmm...starting to sound familiar. The Perseus, a big shot with tons of ambition but also vulnerabilities that made him susceptible to blackmail, waited until Medusa was sleeping and then chopped off her head to use it for her power, turning people into snakes. So powerful dude...needs her power to further his own ends...cuts off her head expecting her to die, but she doesn't. gotcha. Good metaphors for the Rep era. BUT ALSO, MEDUSA has been used consistently (multiple instances over several decades) to represent FEMALE RAGE. From Medusa's Wiki page: "Medusa's visage has since been adopted by many women as a symbol of female rage; one of the first publications to express this idea was a feminist journal called Women: A Journal of Liberation in their issue one, volume six for 1978. The cover featured the image of the Gorgon Medusa by Froggi Lupton, which the editors on the inside cover explained "can be a map to guide us through our terrors, through the depths of our anger into the sources of our power as women." Okay, represents female rage. Gotcha. But what else? Oh yeah, Medusa has been interpreted as reclaiming female sexuality and gay female sexuality specifically. *"Elena Dykewomon's 1976 collection of lesbian stories and poems, [MORE POETRY!] They Will Know Me by My Teeth, features a drawing of [Medusa] on its cover. Its purpose was to act as a guardian for female power, keeping the book solely in the hands of women." The whole Wiki entry is worth a read if you're a queer rep-era girly like me or just interested in the advanced easter egging we're getting right now. |
2024.05.18 19:39 EmperorEscargot My dad wonders why we get so tired of being around him
I am at the table, finished with the breakfast I just cooked for myself, and have a greasy, sticky plate in front of me with a fork and knife. My dad is in the kitchen washing dishes. My mom is up walking around.
I have chronic pain and bladder problems, so I don't get up immediately because I want to relax after my meal. I know if I stand up, the change in posture will give me the urge to go to the bathroom, which I don't want to do right now.
My mom passes nearby. I ask if she can take my plate to dad. She takes it and starts walking to the kitchen with it, and then I hear my dad saying to wipe the plate off first. I say I have an old napkin- she comes back to get it then returns to the kitchen. I'm thankful for the help.
I'm disabled and don't work, though I try to do as much as I can. I often cook meals for all 3 of us and my dad usually does the dishes. My mom and I do some when he's not there.
A few minutes pass and then my dad is griping. "This hasn't been wiped!"
"I did wipe it!" my Mom calls.
"Come out here and look at this!" my Dad insists. He brings out the knife and fork to the table so that I can see it, and calls my mom over.
He shows me a slightly sticky knife and fork. It's true, they don't look like they were wiped. But mom says she DID wipe the plate, which my dad doesn't argue against. He demonstrates how to wipe the knife and fork with a napkin to us, as if we're both dumb.
I don't say anything. I usually don't in these moments. I feel bad now that I asked my mom to clear my dish and now she's getting yelled at. I wish I had just left my things at my place until I felt ready to get up. I don't want conflict.
My dad, back at the sink, starts rambling on. "It only took me one time to realize I should not leave my dirty underwear on the floor for my wife to pick up. After 42 years of marriage, I've never done it since. All I'm asking is for a simple thing. You wipe the dishes and silverware clean. It's an easy task. But if you don't do it, it makes it harder for the person washing the dishes. And it's already a tedious job."
I agree. I hate washing dishes. But I think, "Is it really worth yelling at us for this? Could you not have just asked, come back here and wipe the knife? Or could you not have just done it yourself since its so easy? And really, the soap in the sponge is an emulsifier... with that slight amount of stickiness you could really just go straight to it with the soapy sponge... it's not like it's peanut butter or something."
My dad continues monologuing about various things related to washing dishes - some of them good points, but none of it interesting - for the next several minutes while continuing the dishes. Nobody responds. I'm tuning him out. My mom probably is to. Although I still hear him.
I wonder, "Does he know we're tuning him out? Does he feel like it's not fair to him? Does he not see any connection between the fact that he's such a difficult person to be around and he's always yelling about stuff and the fact that sometimes we just stop listening?"
He's talking about how terrible teachers are in the teacher's lounge and how they expect everyone else to clean up their messes. I know what he's talking about. I've seen similar when I worked at a place with a shared kitchen. But it seems like catastrophizing to go from one slightly sticky fork and knife... to that topic.
No matter what we do, there will always be something that gets done a little less well because there's something else we're more focused on. And sometimes, we'll forget things we are asked to do. Does this not apply to my dad? Does he never forget to do things we request of him? Does he never simply refuse to do things we request of him? Little things like, don't leave the door open for several minutes while mosquitos are out and you're bumbling around?
I've lived with people who completely trash their surroundings and make me the one who has a lot to complain about, and I've still never become a petty jerk about it. I just think there's a better attitude you should have when dealing with people you actually care about.
submitted by EmperorEscargot to raisedbynarcissists [link] [comments]
I have chronic pain and bladder problems, so I don't get up immediately because I want to relax after my meal. I know if I stand up, the change in posture will give me the urge to go to the bathroom, which I don't want to do right now.
My mom passes nearby. I ask if she can take my plate to dad. She takes it and starts walking to the kitchen with it, and then I hear my dad saying to wipe the plate off first. I say I have an old napkin- she comes back to get it then returns to the kitchen. I'm thankful for the help.
I'm disabled and don't work, though I try to do as much as I can. I often cook meals for all 3 of us and my dad usually does the dishes. My mom and I do some when he's not there.
A few minutes pass and then my dad is griping. "This hasn't been wiped!"
"I did wipe it!" my Mom calls.
"Come out here and look at this!" my Dad insists. He brings out the knife and fork to the table so that I can see it, and calls my mom over.
He shows me a slightly sticky knife and fork. It's true, they don't look like they were wiped. But mom says she DID wipe the plate, which my dad doesn't argue against. He demonstrates how to wipe the knife and fork with a napkin to us, as if we're both dumb.
I don't say anything. I usually don't in these moments. I feel bad now that I asked my mom to clear my dish and now she's getting yelled at. I wish I had just left my things at my place until I felt ready to get up. I don't want conflict.
My dad, back at the sink, starts rambling on. "It only took me one time to realize I should not leave my dirty underwear on the floor for my wife to pick up. After 42 years of marriage, I've never done it since. All I'm asking is for a simple thing. You wipe the dishes and silverware clean. It's an easy task. But if you don't do it, it makes it harder for the person washing the dishes. And it's already a tedious job."
I agree. I hate washing dishes. But I think, "Is it really worth yelling at us for this? Could you not have just asked, come back here and wipe the knife? Or could you not have just done it yourself since its so easy? And really, the soap in the sponge is an emulsifier... with that slight amount of stickiness you could really just go straight to it with the soapy sponge... it's not like it's peanut butter or something."
My dad continues monologuing about various things related to washing dishes - some of them good points, but none of it interesting - for the next several minutes while continuing the dishes. Nobody responds. I'm tuning him out. My mom probably is to. Although I still hear him.
I wonder, "Does he know we're tuning him out? Does he feel like it's not fair to him? Does he not see any connection between the fact that he's such a difficult person to be around and he's always yelling about stuff and the fact that sometimes we just stop listening?"
He's talking about how terrible teachers are in the teacher's lounge and how they expect everyone else to clean up their messes. I know what he's talking about. I've seen similar when I worked at a place with a shared kitchen. But it seems like catastrophizing to go from one slightly sticky fork and knife... to that topic.
No matter what we do, there will always be something that gets done a little less well because there's something else we're more focused on. And sometimes, we'll forget things we are asked to do. Does this not apply to my dad? Does he never forget to do things we request of him? Does he never simply refuse to do things we request of him? Little things like, don't leave the door open for several minutes while mosquitos are out and you're bumbling around?
I've lived with people who completely trash their surroundings and make me the one who has a lot to complain about, and I've still never become a petty jerk about it. I just think there's a better attitude you should have when dealing with people you actually care about.
2024.05.18 19:25 bulldog_lover17 Obsessing over this decision.
Hi all - I am agonizing over the decision to have a second child or not. I feel like it was a super easy decision to have one, but after pregnancy, delivery, and postpartum (and the first year of broken sleep) I am so much more hesitant to have a second. Everyone around me is moving on to their second pregnancies, and on hard days I am 100% OAD. On easy days or days where I feel more rested, it seems more feasible to have another. I’m diagnosed OCD and GAD and this topic has become an obsession. I constantly think about it, read about it, and look for some sort of “light bulb” moment to give me clarity so I can move on. The thing is, I don’t think having a second would do my mental health any good. I worry about PPA and the long term stress of having another child. I want to be the best mom I can be, and I am not sure I’ll be able to achieve that with 2. My question is - why is this so hard to decide on? I think about my level of fulfillment and I’m totally fulfilled with my daughter. I just sometimes romanticize a second child when I think about holidays and the future (my daughter having someone to lean on after my husband and I are gone). Did anyone feel more content in their decision to be OAD as time went on? My daughter is only 19 months. I’m 34 and I know there’s still time.. I’m just tired most of the time and don’t see myself having a baby in my late 30s. I just worry about the risks and having the energy for it. I think I know deep down I’m OAD but can’t seem to stop obsessing over the “right” decision!
submitted by bulldog_lover17 to Shouldihaveanother [link] [comments]
2024.05.18 18:47 MochaMichia I don't know if my Mom is my mom truly anymore and I seriously don't know what to do
Hi, I'm back. I know I've posted 2-3 posts on here already. But this might have a few updates.
Last night me and my family were celebrating my wife's birthday, I'll call her Coral for this story. My 'Mom' 47F and my Dad 52M were there also. My wife's parents were on call cause of some complications with work. When the party was going on there was a knock at the door. My niece Karen opened it. At the door was a woman who looked EXACTLY like my mom. Not a single difference other than their eye color. The second the woman saw my mom she started screaming at her in a language I couldn't understand, it was probably Portuguese or something. My mom seemed to understand her and was screaming back at her in the same language. My dad tried to break up the situation. But he was obviously confused about who this woman was. So was the rest of us. Coral said she was gonna call the police if this woman didn't leave. And the woman seemed to understand her and immediately tried to make her not to in perfect English. Coral started dialing and the woman immediately ran for the door. The rest of the party was pretty awkward and quiet. Other than Karen and Sena chatting quietly about the situation. I asked my mom who that woman was. But my mom immediately switched the topic to something else. After 30 minutes I decided to just let everyone leave. All of them were understanding and left for me and Coral to be alone. Coral is very confused but a little annoyed at my mom for not telling the truth. Just for a bit of backstory, Coral and Mom don't get along often because my wife was the one who made transition for bisexual to a full lesbian. My mom is religious but still loves me. (As she says). Currently, I called my best friend about it. And she says that the woman could be a twin or close relative to my mom somehow. Which I understand how that is possible. But truly. I am sitting in my bed cause I wasn't able to sleep. And while still typing I don't know what to do.
submitted by MochaMichia to AmITheJerk [link] [comments]
Last night me and my family were celebrating my wife's birthday, I'll call her Coral for this story. My 'Mom' 47F and my Dad 52M were there also. My wife's parents were on call cause of some complications with work. When the party was going on there was a knock at the door. My niece Karen opened it. At the door was a woman who looked EXACTLY like my mom. Not a single difference other than their eye color. The second the woman saw my mom she started screaming at her in a language I couldn't understand, it was probably Portuguese or something. My mom seemed to understand her and was screaming back at her in the same language. My dad tried to break up the situation. But he was obviously confused about who this woman was. So was the rest of us. Coral said she was gonna call the police if this woman didn't leave. And the woman seemed to understand her and immediately tried to make her not to in perfect English. Coral started dialing and the woman immediately ran for the door. The rest of the party was pretty awkward and quiet. Other than Karen and Sena chatting quietly about the situation. I asked my mom who that woman was. But my mom immediately switched the topic to something else. After 30 minutes I decided to just let everyone leave. All of them were understanding and left for me and Coral to be alone. Coral is very confused but a little annoyed at my mom for not telling the truth. Just for a bit of backstory, Coral and Mom don't get along often because my wife was the one who made transition for bisexual to a full lesbian. My mom is religious but still loves me. (As she says). Currently, I called my best friend about it. And she says that the woman could be a twin or close relative to my mom somehow. Which I understand how that is possible. But truly. I am sitting in my bed cause I wasn't able to sleep. And while still typing I don't know what to do.
2024.05.18 18:27 whiskeywinewheywhale Should I ask out my office coworker?
I've tried googling this topic beforehand, but the majority of Reddit threads seem to center around restaurant/small business environments which don't seem to apply to me. Given I work for "big corporate", I wanted to throw my question out there and hopefully get your guidance--whether I'm misinterpreting the entire situation or if I should go for it tactfully.
I'm [M31] working as a senior financial analyst for a large national corporation and this girl [F27] recently joined my small 3-person team (in a dept of ~30 people). We're of equal job titles. She's a naturally bubbly, friendly person so I can't tell if she's just being who she is or something more. Also given she's new to the company/team, I wanted to keep it as professional as possible when we first got to know each other.
In her first week on the team, she said and did things I feel are beyond just being friendly:
Appreciate any thoughts.
submitted by whiskeywinewheywhale to dating_advice [link] [comments]
I'm [M31] working as a senior financial analyst for a large national corporation and this girl [F27] recently joined my small 3-person team (in a dept of ~30 people). We're of equal job titles. She's a naturally bubbly, friendly person so I can't tell if she's just being who she is or something more. Also given she's new to the company/team, I wanted to keep it as professional as possible when we first got to know each other.
In her first week on the team, she said and did things I feel are beyond just being friendly:
- After getting to know each other better, I overheard her talking with other coworkers how "whiskeywinewheywhale (WWW) is like an onion, he's so interesting"
- Asked me what my ethnicity was and then responded, "Oh I know you guys age like fine wine"
- Giving me light friendly arm punches (I didn't reciprocate the physical contact)
- Out of the blue walked by my cube and asked me to take her on a tour of the entire building
- I give her a nickname (which I'm known for doing for almost everyone). While this isn't necessarily notable, there was an instance early on where I congratulated her on a presentation she did "You crushed that one, [nickname]". Months later she mentioned off-hand that she thinks about that message (with a dog heart emoji)
- She's often waited for me to finish up work at the end of the day so we walk down to our cars together
- She has mentioned she thinks I'm so funny (that she's "cackling at her desk" in response to some dumb dad joke i had made (I lean to more sarcastic humor)
- We're in the office twice a week. On those days she'll sometimes ask me to grab coffee in the morning or in the afternoon (walking down to the office cafe for like 5 min).
- With the summer around the corner, I often go walking outside on my own in the afternoon. She asked to join me on these walks and we've done this a couple of times where we just walk and talk.
- She mentioned that she tried to find my IG profile but failed (as well as our other male team member). We ended up connecting later on.
- She's often mentioned she talks about me with her mom and sister. (but I feel like any normal person might tell their family what their coworkers are like...so idk)
- We've driven together on a couple of occasions to after-work company events (she has her own car but says it's too messy for her to drive me)
- On a couple of occasions where we don't see eye to eye on a trivial topic, I've joked "That's why we'll never get along / OMG you're sooo annoying, you're like the bane of my existence". Apparently she took this super seriously.
- Last week she called me on her 1hr drive home after I made that joke for a 2nd time and asked "did you really mean that? I didn't like that. Are you upset with me?" I reassured her I was just joking and then we spent the full hour on the phone just talking about family, life, dreams, etc.
- Some days we'll not speak due to how busy we are, she has followed up 2-3 times saying "WWW you've giving me dark energy, is everything ok?" (I'm generally positive with everyone but when I'm super focused I get resting bitch face)
- She's big into horoscopes and so she was persistent on finding out time/date/location details to figure out my sign (she ended up sending me an entire PDF report on it...though she says now she doesn't remember what day my birthday is)
- ~1-2 times a week she'll MS TEAMS video call me asking me for guidance on financial models. We'll often figure out the problem and then just stay on the video call for 1-2 hours just chatting or even not chatting...just keeping the video live while we work
- During these conversations she'll often profess to some deep embarrassing secrets then get flustered "I can't believe I just said that to you"
- NOTE: She's on a couple of occasions called me "friend"/"pal" which is perhaps the biggest thing that gives me pause. We've also never discussed anything sexual in nature or dating (except joking about finding sugar daddy/mommys)
Appreciate any thoughts.
2024.05.18 17:59 S0ng81rd Part 23
My Dad is bringing up a very important word,
"No"
Actually, I think that was his favorite word.
I had a great habit of using it when I was under his roof. What he said is usually what happens first. He was the head of the house and the leader of his own reality. When he was intoxicated or not, what he saw and thought in his mind came to life, even when it never took place in real time.
Why did I give him so much respect when he clearly was showing me toxicity in our relationship at home?
He pretended to be a person of high stature when we are in public. No one would have guessed his bad habits with substances at home and the way he acted behind closed doors. When I reached out for emotional support at school or church, I was mostly shunned by anyone that listened to my story. They taught me that my feelings were wrong and asking for help gets me in trouble. When I told my mom anything, she was busy at work and came home tired. She trusted everything my father would tell her and I got in trouble for speaking out for his behavior. I was kept at home and if anything that could get me out of the house was already planned to be declined if I asked to do anything.
It was hard to please anyone at this point.
I kept my room spotless and vacuumed everyday, just so my dad couldn't say no and tell me to clean my room if I had a friend standing next to me wanting to hang out.
I had one friend in my life that saw my father for who he really is and he scared her pretty bad. He chased me to her car when I was trying to leave my house, he was on oxy at the time. My friend hesitated and kept the car in the driveway and told me to go do what he said. I wanted her to drive as fast as she could away from him, because he took the battery out of my car and I couldn't leave to be with Suz.
Well, after that incident, I lost my friend. She told her parents what happened and she broke all contact with me and stopped talking to me at church. Rumors went around and her mom I sang with on stage started to be disrespectful towards me.
I learned a valuable lesson that day....
When you feel safe enough to speak out and let someone see your true self, you scare people away.
When I trusted someone, I was abandoned when they saw my life for what it is.
The truth was hard to swallow and I had to stay around my father regardless of trying to find help in some form of way I felt heard. I tried to be emancipated, I went to church and sought out resources, I researched about how to prevent suicidal tendencies, I was speaking to a child psychologist. I was working on being more respectful towards my parents, but when my dad got high and made up stories to be angry and attack me. I had no way to protect myself and prove that it was just my father being an addict going through a psychotic episode.
This is why the Lord forced me into psychology.
I didn't want anything to do with it! (Working in a psych ward.... It sucked.)
Suz was the first person to really allow me to learn how to understand it with her version of explaining reality. She is a psychic medium. A very good one! She was very outspoken, rude and funny.... I can take the hard criticism. Nothing amounted to the trauma my father already caused me to feel. I survived high school band.... My director was exactly like my father and I was verbally abused at school by certain individuals.
I kept it all to myself and I planned very strategically my way to "heaven". I kept a journal on purpose for someone to find later. I wrote about everything I was feeling and how I was being treated, my poems, other interesting facts about spirituality, death and dying.
Suz taught me how to have a "book of shadows"..... Well, she is a witch..... It shouldn't be scary when I say that, she was a very proud "light witch". She only worked for the good of humanity. Christianity shuns such practices, but it really is part of the culture before religion became a thing. She taught me so many things that my Dad made me swear I would never get involved in.....
My Dad went into psychology after he decided he wasn't going to be a pastor. His past marriage was a major roadblock for him that he lost faith in God and didn't feel it was right for him to lie on stage to other believers when he wasn't being honest about his own walk in faith anymore.
A divorce would literally kill my soul. I can't imagine what betrayal feels like until you promise your life in vows to someone and it doesn't work out....My Dad made sure to show me that marriage is a special connection and I had to be very cautious who I accept as my spouse. I never forgotten how important it was for him to see me with the right man, but he was so overprotective, he never allowed me to learn how to date or even go to a school dance.
I blame the drugs for interfering in our relationship as a family. My Father was a very smart man, until he took a pill, shot up, or drink... My dad worked in anesthesia, he knew how to mix his own concoction and by pass the system to get his fix. He was forced to retire don't worry, but his knowledge to get drugs was phenomenal all that he knew about medicine.
It really sucked that he knew psychology and ways to manipulate people to get what he wanted. He was a very skilled hypnotherapist on top of that. My family is the result of a head narcissist raising more products of himself.
If you see my family now, we are estranged for good reasons, but they still hurt me personally. I really tried to keep us together after my father passed away, but the rest of my family chose to ignore my advances to keep in contact. I'm not even invited to the family reunions.
It's okay, because we have a lot of family history of incest and "S.A." and I understand why we are not invited.... I know a lot of things about our family after my father passed away. I know why he turned to be a pastor and then went in psychology to help himself and others, but then he lost his way and turned to drugs to mask his pain. The enemy stepped in and my Dad gave into his weaknesses..... He tried and he fought hard. Even when he attacked me my whole life. I still sat there and listened to him and I was forced to listen and not leave the room, but then God showed me to talk back to my Dad.....
So, I started to read more about the Bible and relate to him.
That's why I went to church...
I went to church 4 times a week to get away from the house, but to also just understand why I want to end my life and know that I would go to heaven if I actually tried it.....I was worried about my Mom and how my actions would affect her, she was a big reason why I stalled my plans and then my Dad had this wise idea to get me to work at a mortuary. Told me to walk into one and ask for a job.
Crazy how I jump topics all of a sudden, but this is how my Dad and I got along with each other. Weird and comical. lol
If it wasn't about music, it was about spirituality. I was into a lot of death related shows because I was suicidal. If you remember any of these, they came out around the time I was in high school.
Six Feet Under
Dead Like Me
Dr. G Medical Examiner
1000 Ways to Die
Ghost hunters
Crime Scene Clean Up Crew shows.
I would walk in the dining room while he was chillin in his hospital bed. Watching Finding Big Foot.
"Hey DAD! check this out."
It was a nice distraction to his day. It brought up his own fears with common daily interactions because of my odd obsession with the topic of dying.
My father at this point in his cancer diagnosis, he was on something they call,
Palliative care.
My mom explained to me that it means he was going to die. Lovely how blunt my mother is, but that's how she said it without sugar coating it....
But it was in a way it would be under his terms. My father at this point died once while receiving radiation therapy. His heart stopped and was revived. When he woke up angry and violent towards at the medical team. He yelled at my mom that he was ready to "go". So, after that incident he got the right person to sign him up for his new journey to his death.
That was a weird way of telling you what palliative care is, but that's how I found out and understood that he had a "DNR" to his name after that incident. Sometimes he was in a hospice home for a few months to give us a break at home dealing with his drama.
My Dad was surrounded by death, so it made me really research death and dying very deeply. I was afraid for anyone to see the books I read because they were about taboo topics you shouldn't see a teenager obsessing over. Death and dying, crossing over, letting go of loved ones, suicide survivors, decomposition of human remains, the death process, how a body is embalmed, what medical examiners while cutting open a corpse.
Then I got into the spiritual side of things that involve the devil and crossing over. How to avoid walking back towards hell when you are deceived by dark forces. How to fight your inner hell and not be trapped in that mindset when you are passing away.
I would have the craziest dreams after learning about these topics. But in a weird way, all I wanted to do was sleep to escape my reality. I would talk to my Dad about the stuff I found about those topics and it helped him be closer to me as a father. Something my little brother doesn't understand and ridiculed about me when he criticized my relationship with him. He had his own way to being with Dad, but my way, was with deeper meaning and serious topics. Stuff only Dad and I knew what that meant. It wasn't supposed to make sense to my mom or brother the special talks we had when he was in pain laying in bed.
I showed my Dad the other side to life....
I helped my Dad not be afraid to die, and do it with dignity and strength.
I helped my Dad understand that his addictions didn't ruin our connection as father and daughter and that I wanted to forgive him for his past before he died. He really appreciated my understanding that the drugs turned him into a different person, but inside of him, God was always there. My father told me, because of me, I allowed him to find love for God again and he was closer to his Mom because I showed him to not be afraid of my friend Suz.
That my friend wasn't evil and she taught me so much about angels and spirits, he was learning about them because I had the best mentor in the world. She helped me find my relationship with my Dad, that brought me to be closer to God and because I learned about God in a metaphysical way, I helped myself grow in my own understanding to where I wasn't going to end my life.
I found a reason to live even through the pain of watching the enemy run through my family and take away everyone and everything that means something to me.....
(I would like to post this, but I know it's not ready. I have so much to say and I know my story will help someone else not be afraid.)
I am still writing my story.
This is the book I was supposed to write about....
The one about death and dying.
Not about my background in psychology.
*That is a message for someone else. hint hint... That is your topic to write about. I hope you receive that message with understanding and go forth wisely. You asked me to remind you, so I am, quietly...
I am working with others in a way the Lord leads me.
It takes up my energy from writing and I have to prioritize what is more important. When it comes to someone's transition. I feel led to help someone cross over. I've done this since I was a child. No one taught me to understand how I do this. I also dream about meeting certain individuals and speak to them about life and death, God allows me to remember my dreams and I share them with the people it is about.
Most times, God will send people to talk to me and then I learn about them dying or having a terminal illness that is difficult to get through. That is where I am reminded of my life with my father and my jobs in the medical field and bring up all that I learned about death, dying, spirituality, religion, crossing over, eastern medicine, etc....
Then I become friends, or we have nice conversations that are very engaging and healing in general. I am later told that I have helped them in some way and they are happy to have met me. Then my dad shows up in my presence and shows me how I am doing what I am supposed to and to trust my gut feelings from now on. He promised me when he was alive, he was always going to be by my side and teach me about life.
Now I finally understand what he meant by that and I now that I know how to
"Listen with my HEART"
That is how he spoke to his mom before he crossed over. I taught him how and he was able to go deeper with it since his soul was ascending and leaving the physical body. The dream state plays a big part of crossing over and communicating with loved ones. That is where my gifts come into play. I am sensitive enough to feel him and learn his lessons that he encourages me to write it all down.
I'm not the writer I wish to become yet, but as long as it's getting out there for someone to find, that's all that matters.
Don't forget to realize that we are all dying. Don't allow your diagnosis or reality to have you feel stuck in misery until you die. Don't allow the pain and confusion to stop you from gaining understanding to the karma you're experiencing.Being a medium for me has been traumatizing, because I had to earn my way to understanding. I had to experience hell in order to seek solitude and want to create peace with my sanity and not let the forces around me cause me to go insane. I went "within" so I can heal my trauma and know what triggers me to thinking about the negative side to things.
That is all the enemy fighting with you spiritually.
When we die, we lose our vessel, not our spirit.
We are the spirit having the human experience.
This isn't forever.
Thank God for that!
Pain does end, but learn what the pain wants to teach you about life around you. You will help someone else with your story when you're meant to cross paths.
Everyone in your life is there to teach you something.
Are you ready for the lesson?
Are you ready to understand your lesson?
So, it's crazy how I end up writing these posts, but they are all for a reason that I don't understand right now, but I'm doing as I'm told.
I'm not afraid of death, I'm not afraid of anyone stalking me because I speak of life in a way no one else has, because this is my story.
I don't know why I wrote it this way before I got here.
My destiny, I mean.....
I know my purpose now and of all the things I pushed away in my life, God forced me to go back into it and learn more about myself. The things I didn't want to face and be reminded about my Dad.... I just want to live my life in peace. I didn't want to think about my past love, but I meet people that remind me of my life back home and that person in particular.....
So, it's all hitting at once. It's a slow process, my father has been gone for 11 years now. I'm getting the hang of it now...... Writing this isn't a race for me, the lessons are exciting to finally understand why I went through them, but again.... Time helps me explain things better when I see it in a different perspective. I couldn't have accomplished that goal until I went through the pain and worked on my character to change my outcomes to my problems. I had to change myself first.
I hope those that are part of this journey with me understand that I am only putting out there tools to help them succeed.
I'm not going out of my way to create another trauma bond or narcissistic injury towards anyone. I love them very much and I want them to work on themselves and gain abundance correctly, not with the use of black magic and occult practices.
That's another story for another day. Suz wants them to know that she was in my life to warn me about my lessons in my future, but I can't run from them. I am here to learn lessons and teach others how to learn theirs.
That's all this is about.
Life is a stage, how do you want to play it?
I choose to grow and allow myself to see the positive to where I feel the emotion of bliss, love, joy and acceptance of all things coexisting together.
I be back soon,
I hope you have a nice weekend.
<3,
Tina,
submitted by S0ng81rd to u/S0ng81rd [link] [comments]
"No"
Actually, I think that was his favorite word.
I had a great habit of using it when I was under his roof. What he said is usually what happens first. He was the head of the house and the leader of his own reality. When he was intoxicated or not, what he saw and thought in his mind came to life, even when it never took place in real time.
Why did I give him so much respect when he clearly was showing me toxicity in our relationship at home?
He pretended to be a person of high stature when we are in public. No one would have guessed his bad habits with substances at home and the way he acted behind closed doors. When I reached out for emotional support at school or church, I was mostly shunned by anyone that listened to my story. They taught me that my feelings were wrong and asking for help gets me in trouble. When I told my mom anything, she was busy at work and came home tired. She trusted everything my father would tell her and I got in trouble for speaking out for his behavior. I was kept at home and if anything that could get me out of the house was already planned to be declined if I asked to do anything.
It was hard to please anyone at this point.
I kept my room spotless and vacuumed everyday, just so my dad couldn't say no and tell me to clean my room if I had a friend standing next to me wanting to hang out.
I had one friend in my life that saw my father for who he really is and he scared her pretty bad. He chased me to her car when I was trying to leave my house, he was on oxy at the time. My friend hesitated and kept the car in the driveway and told me to go do what he said. I wanted her to drive as fast as she could away from him, because he took the battery out of my car and I couldn't leave to be with Suz.
Well, after that incident, I lost my friend. She told her parents what happened and she broke all contact with me and stopped talking to me at church. Rumors went around and her mom I sang with on stage started to be disrespectful towards me.
I learned a valuable lesson that day....
When you feel safe enough to speak out and let someone see your true self, you scare people away.
When I trusted someone, I was abandoned when they saw my life for what it is.
The truth was hard to swallow and I had to stay around my father regardless of trying to find help in some form of way I felt heard. I tried to be emancipated, I went to church and sought out resources, I researched about how to prevent suicidal tendencies, I was speaking to a child psychologist. I was working on being more respectful towards my parents, but when my dad got high and made up stories to be angry and attack me. I had no way to protect myself and prove that it was just my father being an addict going through a psychotic episode.
This is why the Lord forced me into psychology.
I didn't want anything to do with it! (Working in a psych ward.... It sucked.)
Suz was the first person to really allow me to learn how to understand it with her version of explaining reality. She is a psychic medium. A very good one! She was very outspoken, rude and funny.... I can take the hard criticism. Nothing amounted to the trauma my father already caused me to feel. I survived high school band.... My director was exactly like my father and I was verbally abused at school by certain individuals.
I kept it all to myself and I planned very strategically my way to "heaven". I kept a journal on purpose for someone to find later. I wrote about everything I was feeling and how I was being treated, my poems, other interesting facts about spirituality, death and dying.
Suz taught me how to have a "book of shadows"..... Well, she is a witch..... It shouldn't be scary when I say that, she was a very proud "light witch". She only worked for the good of humanity. Christianity shuns such practices, but it really is part of the culture before religion became a thing. She taught me so many things that my Dad made me swear I would never get involved in.....
My Dad went into psychology after he decided he wasn't going to be a pastor. His past marriage was a major roadblock for him that he lost faith in God and didn't feel it was right for him to lie on stage to other believers when he wasn't being honest about his own walk in faith anymore.
A divorce would literally kill my soul. I can't imagine what betrayal feels like until you promise your life in vows to someone and it doesn't work out....My Dad made sure to show me that marriage is a special connection and I had to be very cautious who I accept as my spouse. I never forgotten how important it was for him to see me with the right man, but he was so overprotective, he never allowed me to learn how to date or even go to a school dance.
I blame the drugs for interfering in our relationship as a family. My Father was a very smart man, until he took a pill, shot up, or drink... My dad worked in anesthesia, he knew how to mix his own concoction and by pass the system to get his fix. He was forced to retire don't worry, but his knowledge to get drugs was phenomenal all that he knew about medicine.
It really sucked that he knew psychology and ways to manipulate people to get what he wanted. He was a very skilled hypnotherapist on top of that. My family is the result of a head narcissist raising more products of himself.
If you see my family now, we are estranged for good reasons, but they still hurt me personally. I really tried to keep us together after my father passed away, but the rest of my family chose to ignore my advances to keep in contact. I'm not even invited to the family reunions.
It's okay, because we have a lot of family history of incest and "S.A." and I understand why we are not invited.... I know a lot of things about our family after my father passed away. I know why he turned to be a pastor and then went in psychology to help himself and others, but then he lost his way and turned to drugs to mask his pain. The enemy stepped in and my Dad gave into his weaknesses..... He tried and he fought hard. Even when he attacked me my whole life. I still sat there and listened to him and I was forced to listen and not leave the room, but then God showed me to talk back to my Dad.....
So, I started to read more about the Bible and relate to him.
That's why I went to church...
I went to church 4 times a week to get away from the house, but to also just understand why I want to end my life and know that I would go to heaven if I actually tried it.....I was worried about my Mom and how my actions would affect her, she was a big reason why I stalled my plans and then my Dad had this wise idea to get me to work at a mortuary. Told me to walk into one and ask for a job.
Crazy how I jump topics all of a sudden, but this is how my Dad and I got along with each other. Weird and comical. lol
If it wasn't about music, it was about spirituality. I was into a lot of death related shows because I was suicidal. If you remember any of these, they came out around the time I was in high school.
Six Feet Under
Dead Like Me
Dr. G Medical Examiner
1000 Ways to Die
Ghost hunters
Crime Scene Clean Up Crew shows.
I would walk in the dining room while he was chillin in his hospital bed. Watching Finding Big Foot.
"Hey DAD! check this out."
It was a nice distraction to his day. It brought up his own fears with common daily interactions because of my odd obsession with the topic of dying.
My father at this point in his cancer diagnosis, he was on something they call,
Palliative care.
My mom explained to me that it means he was going to die. Lovely how blunt my mother is, but that's how she said it without sugar coating it....
But it was in a way it would be under his terms. My father at this point died once while receiving radiation therapy. His heart stopped and was revived. When he woke up angry and violent towards at the medical team. He yelled at my mom that he was ready to "go". So, after that incident he got the right person to sign him up for his new journey to his death.
That was a weird way of telling you what palliative care is, but that's how I found out and understood that he had a "DNR" to his name after that incident. Sometimes he was in a hospice home for a few months to give us a break at home dealing with his drama.
My Dad was surrounded by death, so it made me really research death and dying very deeply. I was afraid for anyone to see the books I read because they were about taboo topics you shouldn't see a teenager obsessing over. Death and dying, crossing over, letting go of loved ones, suicide survivors, decomposition of human remains, the death process, how a body is embalmed, what medical examiners while cutting open a corpse.
Then I got into the spiritual side of things that involve the devil and crossing over. How to avoid walking back towards hell when you are deceived by dark forces. How to fight your inner hell and not be trapped in that mindset when you are passing away.
I would have the craziest dreams after learning about these topics. But in a weird way, all I wanted to do was sleep to escape my reality. I would talk to my Dad about the stuff I found about those topics and it helped him be closer to me as a father. Something my little brother doesn't understand and ridiculed about me when he criticized my relationship with him. He had his own way to being with Dad, but my way, was with deeper meaning and serious topics. Stuff only Dad and I knew what that meant. It wasn't supposed to make sense to my mom or brother the special talks we had when he was in pain laying in bed.
I showed my Dad the other side to life....
I helped my Dad not be afraid to die, and do it with dignity and strength.
I helped my Dad understand that his addictions didn't ruin our connection as father and daughter and that I wanted to forgive him for his past before he died. He really appreciated my understanding that the drugs turned him into a different person, but inside of him, God was always there. My father told me, because of me, I allowed him to find love for God again and he was closer to his Mom because I showed him to not be afraid of my friend Suz.
That my friend wasn't evil and she taught me so much about angels and spirits, he was learning about them because I had the best mentor in the world. She helped me find my relationship with my Dad, that brought me to be closer to God and because I learned about God in a metaphysical way, I helped myself grow in my own understanding to where I wasn't going to end my life.
I found a reason to live even through the pain of watching the enemy run through my family and take away everyone and everything that means something to me.....
(I would like to post this, but I know it's not ready. I have so much to say and I know my story will help someone else not be afraid.)
I am still writing my story.
This is the book I was supposed to write about....
The one about death and dying.
Not about my background in psychology.
*That is a message for someone else. hint hint... That is your topic to write about. I hope you receive that message with understanding and go forth wisely. You asked me to remind you, so I am, quietly...
I am working with others in a way the Lord leads me.
It takes up my energy from writing and I have to prioritize what is more important. When it comes to someone's transition. I feel led to help someone cross over. I've done this since I was a child. No one taught me to understand how I do this. I also dream about meeting certain individuals and speak to them about life and death, God allows me to remember my dreams and I share them with the people it is about.
Most times, God will send people to talk to me and then I learn about them dying or having a terminal illness that is difficult to get through. That is where I am reminded of my life with my father and my jobs in the medical field and bring up all that I learned about death, dying, spirituality, religion, crossing over, eastern medicine, etc....
Then I become friends, or we have nice conversations that are very engaging and healing in general. I am later told that I have helped them in some way and they are happy to have met me. Then my dad shows up in my presence and shows me how I am doing what I am supposed to and to trust my gut feelings from now on. He promised me when he was alive, he was always going to be by my side and teach me about life.
Now I finally understand what he meant by that and I now that I know how to
"Listen with my HEART"
That is how he spoke to his mom before he crossed over. I taught him how and he was able to go deeper with it since his soul was ascending and leaving the physical body. The dream state plays a big part of crossing over and communicating with loved ones. That is where my gifts come into play. I am sensitive enough to feel him and learn his lessons that he encourages me to write it all down.
I'm not the writer I wish to become yet, but as long as it's getting out there for someone to find, that's all that matters.
Don't forget to realize that we are all dying. Don't allow your diagnosis or reality to have you feel stuck in misery until you die. Don't allow the pain and confusion to stop you from gaining understanding to the karma you're experiencing.Being a medium for me has been traumatizing, because I had to earn my way to understanding. I had to experience hell in order to seek solitude and want to create peace with my sanity and not let the forces around me cause me to go insane. I went "within" so I can heal my trauma and know what triggers me to thinking about the negative side to things.
That is all the enemy fighting with you spiritually.
When we die, we lose our vessel, not our spirit.
We are the spirit having the human experience.
This isn't forever.
Thank God for that!
Pain does end, but learn what the pain wants to teach you about life around you. You will help someone else with your story when you're meant to cross paths.
Everyone in your life is there to teach you something.
Are you ready for the lesson?
Are you ready to understand your lesson?
So, it's crazy how I end up writing these posts, but they are all for a reason that I don't understand right now, but I'm doing as I'm told.
I'm not afraid of death, I'm not afraid of anyone stalking me because I speak of life in a way no one else has, because this is my story.
I don't know why I wrote it this way before I got here.
My destiny, I mean.....
I know my purpose now and of all the things I pushed away in my life, God forced me to go back into it and learn more about myself. The things I didn't want to face and be reminded about my Dad.... I just want to live my life in peace. I didn't want to think about my past love, but I meet people that remind me of my life back home and that person in particular.....
So, it's all hitting at once. It's a slow process, my father has been gone for 11 years now. I'm getting the hang of it now...... Writing this isn't a race for me, the lessons are exciting to finally understand why I went through them, but again.... Time helps me explain things better when I see it in a different perspective. I couldn't have accomplished that goal until I went through the pain and worked on my character to change my outcomes to my problems. I had to change myself first.
I hope those that are part of this journey with me understand that I am only putting out there tools to help them succeed.
I'm not going out of my way to create another trauma bond or narcissistic injury towards anyone. I love them very much and I want them to work on themselves and gain abundance correctly, not with the use of black magic and occult practices.
That's another story for another day. Suz wants them to know that she was in my life to warn me about my lessons in my future, but I can't run from them. I am here to learn lessons and teach others how to learn theirs.
That's all this is about.
Life is a stage, how do you want to play it?
I choose to grow and allow myself to see the positive to where I feel the emotion of bliss, love, joy and acceptance of all things coexisting together.
I be back soon,
I hope you have a nice weekend.
<3,
Tina,
2024.05.18 17:49 Content-Dirt3555 Mavenclad
My mom was recently diagnosed with RRMS, and her doctor recommended considering Mavenclad. I've looked it up, but I would like to hear from people who are using Mavenclad about their experiences. Is it an effective treatment, or should I advocate for her to take a ‘stronger’ DMT if available? I want to know everything—the good, the bad, and the ugly.
If you can share your personal experiences or knowledge on this topic, even if you aren’t taking Mavenclad, or if you have any resources to recommend, I would be very grateful. Thank you so much❤️
submitted by Content-Dirt3555 to MultipleSclerosis [link] [comments]
If you can share your personal experiences or knowledge on this topic, even if you aren’t taking Mavenclad, or if you have any resources to recommend, I would be very grateful. Thank you so much❤️
2024.05.18 17:38 ThrowRA_KangarooWill My (M56) wife (F58) haven't been intimate/had sex in 10+ years. How should I move forward?
We've been married for 27 years. We have two adult children. We started our relationship just after college - I'm her second husband. We started our relationship while she was married. Met up, had sex, dates, romance. She left her first husband for me. Once we married, intamcy/sex early on wasn't bad. By my expecations then, it was great - I was having intimacy with someone! When we would be intimate, she never seemed to enjoy herself. There was no variance in the plain, vanilla act. Sometime after our 2nd child we quit having sex. Ok, perhaps not entirely at first, but certainly enough to fall in the sexless marriage category. This was six years into our marriage. I kept asking, and kept being told no more than yes. After some time, I quit asking. We became roommates and lived comfortably for many years.
I've recently started counselling for other unrelated issues. The topic of her and I came up. Through many weeks of counselling, I've come to the conclusion that after MANY years of having no intimacy, sex, or romance, I've fallen out of love. We're good friends, but not romantic partners. I told her that I no longer have romantic feelings for her. I mentioned the lack of sex. She's gone to counselling - I'm unclear what she talks about. She approached me a few weeks ago saying she was ready to try sex. I panicked and couldn't go thru with it. It just felt wrong. A few days later she noted that in counselling she identified that she started to withdraw after our second child due to image issues and how she was treated by her mom while growing up. Her mom treated her badly psychologically, and continues to as she ages.
In hindsight, sex was never really something to write home about. Very vanilla. Missionary all the way. Oral was begrudgingly performed. She was never grateful when I returned the favor. She just didn't like it. Lights off. Doors locked. Completely covered by blankets. Never saw/see each other naked in passing in bedroom or bathroom. Showered together maybe twice in all this time.
Now, this is my side. She's trying. She wants us to continue. I just completed a Love Language questionnaire for her. I'm wanting to check all the boxes to ensure I'm not missing something. I'm trying to respect our 27 years. Yet I struggle...
If this were infidelity, I'd be out in a second. But it's systematic neglect. I'm now completely uninterested in her romantically. I've tried to imagine her romantically and it's just not there. I'm strongly considering divorce, but I feel bad because she's not done anything "wrong", per se. I'm looking for input from strangers on their thoughts. We both deserve to be in a loving relationship, I just can't see it being with each other any longer. My counsellor continues to tell me I deserve to be happy. I'm failing to see a path to happy with my wife. Just more of the same - friendship. As my children are grown, there isn't an entanglement with children. I'm ready to cut ties, but I'm procrastinating as an avoidance technique, I think, to avoid the drama. My youngest asked me to pray about this. Sadly I think I have the wrong channel as I'm not materializing any guidance. My oldest asked me to talk to strangers before I do anything. I'm trying to honor their requests. I look to you (hopefully) kind strangers for advice and thoughts.
submitted by ThrowRA_KangarooWill to relationship_advice [link] [comments]
I've recently started counselling for other unrelated issues. The topic of her and I came up. Through many weeks of counselling, I've come to the conclusion that after MANY years of having no intimacy, sex, or romance, I've fallen out of love. We're good friends, but not romantic partners. I told her that I no longer have romantic feelings for her. I mentioned the lack of sex. She's gone to counselling - I'm unclear what she talks about. She approached me a few weeks ago saying she was ready to try sex. I panicked and couldn't go thru with it. It just felt wrong. A few days later she noted that in counselling she identified that she started to withdraw after our second child due to image issues and how she was treated by her mom while growing up. Her mom treated her badly psychologically, and continues to as she ages.
In hindsight, sex was never really something to write home about. Very vanilla. Missionary all the way. Oral was begrudgingly performed. She was never grateful when I returned the favor. She just didn't like it. Lights off. Doors locked. Completely covered by blankets. Never saw/see each other naked in passing in bedroom or bathroom. Showered together maybe twice in all this time.
Now, this is my side. She's trying. She wants us to continue. I just completed a Love Language questionnaire for her. I'm wanting to check all the boxes to ensure I'm not missing something. I'm trying to respect our 27 years. Yet I struggle...
If this were infidelity, I'd be out in a second. But it's systematic neglect. I'm now completely uninterested in her romantically. I've tried to imagine her romantically and it's just not there. I'm strongly considering divorce, but I feel bad because she's not done anything "wrong", per se. I'm looking for input from strangers on their thoughts. We both deserve to be in a loving relationship, I just can't see it being with each other any longer. My counsellor continues to tell me I deserve to be happy. I'm failing to see a path to happy with my wife. Just more of the same - friendship. As my children are grown, there isn't an entanglement with children. I'm ready to cut ties, but I'm procrastinating as an avoidance technique, I think, to avoid the drama. My youngest asked me to pray about this. Sadly I think I have the wrong channel as I'm not materializing any guidance. My oldest asked me to talk to strangers before I do anything. I'm trying to honor their requests. I look to you (hopefully) kind strangers for advice and thoughts.