Hi, I’m going to say the name of where I (used to) work, because despite it being a small office, the workplace environment is toxic, disrespectful, and out of order. I worked at the Law Offices of Salami-Oyakhilome, P.C. In Jamaica Queens. The lawyer who was my boss, Ms.Salami, was a terrible boss who would make terrible deadlines, workloads, and had no respect for people’s personal lives, time, etc. I’d also like to say that as crazy as all this sounds, this is really happening to me and I’m just as confused as you probably will be after reading this.
I was hired by her son at the office about a month and a half ago. Her son, who’s a very reasonable person and now a good friend, practically held this poor excuse of a legal office together. [Note: To my knowledge after speaking to him post quitting he wanted to leave this place a while ago but stuck through given it’s his mom I’d assume]. After working there for about a month and half, I reached nearing a point where I wanted to quit but because the son was there and she only showed in the office for a short amount of time each day, I decided to push through because he was unlike his mother a great leader and manager and a genuine pleasure to work alongside. This was until about sometime last week where I got a call from her on my day off at 7 in the morning. I would like to preface before I continue that, I had let Ms.Salami know they day before I’d be not home because I was with my grandfather (who’s sickly) and I even left a hour early the day prior to see him before a procedure so she was well aware I was busy and had a lot of things going on in my life and family. When I picked up the phone she begins to tell me a brand new schedule, without even consulting me on my availability, despite me only starting a month and a half ago, and having a conversation regarding both my hours and availability; none of which were taken into account when this decision made by her. She then proceeds to ask me, if her son spoke to me about the smell, and this is where it was my breaking point. She said that I smell, so bad that the office smells as a result of me, referring to me as “you guys” in a way referring to my race(I’m a brown guy). I take extremely good care of my personal hygiene, so it’s not the fact of what she said that really bothered me as I know I don’t, but the unprofessionalism, racism, and disrespect I felt from that comment. As she hung up the phone I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything but ok, as I needed to process what just happened. As I said earlier me and the son became good friends so much that he would tell me all of the struggles of working for his mom and his personal feelings regarding working for her, and so I decided to message him about how I felt, because I felt if anything he as the middleground of this office, the only “normal” person in the office who remembers people are human, and honestly the only one who treats others with respect. If anything he was the closest to an HR i’d have. Come to find out, she fired her own son the day before after I went home, under the pretense that he “wasn’t working hard enough.” It’s ironic given that the literal day before this happened last Wednesday the son was telling me that Monday night he stayed in the office to help catch up on everything while also studying for finals and didn’t even go home or get sleep getting both his work and college work done. By this point after speaking to the son, and me and him sharing our difficulties working for Ms. Salami, I decided to send a very professional message to her saying how her comment made me feel, in conjunction with her lack of understanding regarding my personal time and schedule. To which the first sentence she sent to me was as followed:
“Wow [my name] This is so unnecessary. You are unnecessarily sensitive.”
This was then followed by her saying she wishes to have me back and apologizing to which she then counteracted her entire statement many times over saying that if she were me she wouldn’t mind if someone said she smelled, and made comments like those.
That was my breakpoint and from here I basically asked her when she wanted me to drop the keys to the office, and she said Monday. I was not home until very late Monday night, so I told her early that day I would drop it off yesterday (Tuesday). Yesterday morning she sent me a text to leave the keys with the pharmacy next door and at around 10:45 in the morning I dropped them off and wished her company good luck, and stated to assure my final paycheck be paid this Friday per usual for the 20 hours I worked.
She sends me this message around 3:
[My name]..where are the original keys l gave you. The keys you dropped looks like they were recently made. I need an explanation otherwise payroll will be withheld.
Upset, I reply asking her why I would have a need to copy her keys, as those are the original keys she gave to me, funnily enough I only got those keys a week and a half ago and trust me the last thing I want is keys to that crappy excuse of an office. She is yet to reply, but my questions still remain now.

1. Does she have any right to withhold my final paycheck especially now that she has the keys returned to her?
2. In the event I’m not paid this Friday what’s my best course of action?
   
3. This isn’t a question, but an ask from someone who’s been going through it with life and struggling to manage it and now having to deal with this, please do not allow a business that treats its employees, like this prosper, please help it receive the poor judgement it deserves, do not let an office like this be around for the next victim.
   
4. If you want anything clarified, or just have more questions regarding the story feel free to reply and I can give an answer.
   

Note: I did speak to the son and he said I should get paid, and not to worry, but I just wanted the advice just in case. Rather be safe than sorry.

I told my manager I would come in early. And, at this point I really don't want to go in at all. I frustrated, and feel kind of shitty for a situation that happened at work, today, and it has just left me drained. It was just me and someone who just started, and noone else had shown up. I called the manager a bit late. It was a little after 4:00 in the morning, and I couldn't get a hold of anyone until calling a few times. So I didn't know what to do right away, and guessed to just open the store, even though I didn't really know exactly how to do things. Long story short, I mistakenly pulled a dollar, which instigated a police call. And the officer seemed furious without really saying anything to me. I just put myself in an uncomfortable situation, and this was all overly frustrating. In general I didn't know why the officer was there, or why she had been ready to go for her gun if she needed to when she walked in the door. I was helping a customer, and she talked to the other person working who said there was no recollection of a call, and I didn't know what to say, so I just shut up, and finished helping the customer. Idk. wibtah if I called into work tomorrow, since I don't want to be there?

There’s only one person I’ve given my heart to. He’s handsome he’s kind and he’s all things sublime. I never thought that I’d even meet him. Friends of friends and I had only heard stories.
His eyes in photographs smile like rays of sunshine. It’s disgusting really for how much of him I choose to pine. I promise final declarations but that’s not me of course. I found myself thinking, “boy I really boast.”
But really I don’t.
It’s just not true.
I only want You to know how much I love you.
Please don’t forget that. I know you never will. I’ll see you for that dance of ours, on the moon in its cold dark chill.

If you’re curious “why the new account?” I delete and refresh every once and awhile. Mostly because I am Volatile

So I (24M) am going through a difficult time emotionally in terms of trying to figure out my current situation. One thing I can’t get over is what went wrong with my parents who are somehow still together. They both CLEARLY don’t like each other very much and I’m pretty sure the reason why is that they spend way too much time in the house together and it’s been going on for so long. My dad “worked” from home for a long time as a photographer (basically most of the time that I’ve known him) and things got real tough on his business for a good minute. But he went out of his way to not suck it up and do certain work that would’ve helped pay the bills (refused to shoot weddings, other things that annoyed him). It honestly comes off to me now as a bit lazy, and low and behold do I learn that he was a big pot head for my entire life. I personally don’t have an issue with weed, but I used to find it strange why he never really had energy. He also used to vent to me about his marital frustrations and how depressed he was CONSTANTLY, which I think I’ve figured out is because he smoked too much damn weed. This also made things very hard to enjoy when I was growing up bc I think I kinda felt responsible for him. He was always in an existential crisis. I’m gonna stick with the occasional joint but I’m going to be a booze guy from here on out (responsibly I might add, I’m not an idiot). Through all that, I generally have pretty good memories with him as he could be lots of fun at times. In terms of fatherly advice though, he kinda sounds like he barely, if at all, knows what he’s talking about. A lot. BUT, he did show up to everything that me or my brother were involved with and was and still is our biggest fan. He may just kinda repeat back what I say a lot when I ask for advice, but at least he’s trying. I appreciate the effort.
Mom was different. She worked a nursing job on the weekends that she had to commute to. This pretty much destroyed her mental health in my opinion, as she’s incredibly isolated and used to exaggerate how bad, irresponsible, and not caring I was as a kid and teen (I was the kind of kid adults DREAM of. 4.0 student, full ride, helpful, interesting hobbies but can also have fun. Never a burden to anyone really, club joiner, plenty of friends. The whole 9 yards). I was pretty introverted but I think it’s because of how they set everything up to be SO isolated. Putting me in an isolating school that was pretty far from our neighborhood because mom resented it. Our house is literally in a ditch that was pretty separated from everyone (only 1 neighborhood friend). Social skills were honestly at a premium to develop, but I survived. She always seemed so irritated at me, would point out a lot of insecurities I had to her friends to laugh about with, and never really cared to participate in things with me. Never showed up to school events or functions that I was involved with, blamed it on a fear of crowds (which she conveniently doesn’t have when it’s something she wanted to do). She was just kinda mean and distant. Did I jaw back and embarrass her occasionally? Sure, but considering other kids were shooting up heroin in our family (a true fucking story that she had to stick her nose in), I think I can be forgiven. This isolation had an incredibly negative impact on her health. The house is a wreck, her heart sucks as she had a heart attack a couple years back. It’s bad. Real bad. All she does is sit on her damn phone and watch tiktok. Her brain (which, she actually was acutely intelligent) is pretty much fried. It also didn’t help to learn from my aunt that my mom has had affairs (I want to think multiple but I can only confirm one), and the one I can confirm is with a convicted pedophile that she continues to defend (and my dad idiotically goes along with her bullshit on it)… so yeah. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that information.
So how do I make sense of all this. I’m very bad at communicating what I need unless I’m drunk, but I still want them to do better. I work from home with great pay for a single man, so I’m sorta using that to “make up for lost time” on things I missed out on as a kid, but I still feel isolated and stressed bc of the situation. I know I have a deep mistrust and fear of women that I need to get over as well, but I don’t know how to do that. I’m going to see yet another therapist about this, but even that’s burning me out. What’s with this situation?

Hi everyone. Let me tell a litle story about how i ended up to hold $candle.
I'm in crypto since from 2017, not a "professional" trader, or youtube influencer(on the contrary, I hate those crypto influencers, except for a few, and if I learned one lesson it is this: just beware of any coin recommended by these influencers because 90% are insiders and you will be rugged) but i learned my lessons which cost me a lot. I have rug pulled many times
Long story short 2 month ago i landed in $SLERF, but unfortunately i aped in at the bottom price. After that i saw a twitter post from my friend about the $Candle launching by BullBNB(if you are serious in crypto you know him), to be honest, to me he is the most honest person form the whole f***ng Twitter, aah and rich+modest :)
The total supply of $candle at launch was 1 billion, BullBNB bought 775 million tokens and burnt 755 million!!!
After that he Burnt 400 $Sol worth of $Candle which he bought aswell. Thats 60K USD
He created this for the community and gave us to manage and grow(Practically he assured a Rug-Proof memecoin) and told us that after 90 days the party will start(in this time period the jeeters will fall out and so on).
Currently the team are in a full development of a brand new site with some utility, and we are going to do a lot of stuff(i'm a meme creator).
Just do a search on twitter with these: $candle or #candle to see how hard we are working :)
The current Mcap is 500K because of the 80% supply burn, else this wou.l be at 11M. For those who are in crypto, they know well what this means. A 100X minimum from the current price.
Also we have a donation address where the community members can donate for the future marketing things. Last time BullBNB donate 12 SOL :)
Guys, i have just one request for you, just please join to our Telegram Group 24H ONLY, if you don't like what you will see there (what kind of people are there, what is the atmosphere like) you can leave, and even you can report me here on Reddit.(I am so confident in this).
If you are joining please don't forget to mention that you are from Reddit(Roy's post) in this way we can know that you are coming from here :)
Here is the link: https://www.candle.cat/
We are really trying to gave back the trust for the whole SOLANA blockhain where everyday 100 of new rugpulled project are created.
Guys i know it's sounds strange especially from an unknown person, but this is really a chance of your life
I would like in a few months to have more comments on this post thanking me for changing your life for the better with this post.
Thank you very much and have a nice day
ROY

I have been reading about something called complex trauma, or complex ptsd. There has been a lot of good material about this out there nowadays, in the past I think this topic was not so well understood.
After learning about this, I realised how starkly ignorant I was of it before. For example, imagine being on fire but not having a concept of fire.
Trauma is something that, it seems, affects everybody or almost everybody. It does not only take war to cause trauma.
In my own life, I was totally shattered by the effects of trauma without really realising what that means. I wasn’t taught about this, I had no concept of it. I just knew the pain it entailed.
One day I became aware of mindfulness, thank you dr. hoffman. I learned about the basics of breath meditation.
I watched Sam Harris talk about how we have no self.
Then I got into Thai Forest Buddhism, then into Tibetan Buddhism.
Over the course I started having some spiritual experiences. Some of them related to seeing negative spirits. But I also had other long term issues in my life, related to illness, pain, conflict, and etc. I dove into spiritual practice as a tool for dealing with these protracted issues.
Eventually it worked but then it revealed a level that I had to learn about trauma. It wasn’t enough to learn about Buddhist texts or practices only. Sometimes Buddhists will talk about trauma but not only.
A lot of Vajrayana books have a warning in the intro that, a guru is not their job to fix your mental health problems, or your parental issues, etc. That you should see a therapist for this. And sometimes it is an issue at Buddhist centers being flooded by people in need of mental health assistance but this is not the niche of a temple environment.
In my own case, I have something called insecure attachment style. This is something I’ve been learning about only recently. I think it is really indispensable for my Buddhist practice but i’m not sure this is necessarily spelled out in Buddhism the way it is spelled out in psychology.
An insecure attachment style means not having a healthy emotional bond with your caretakers as a child. That was me. I didn’t have any healthy bonds with anyone as a child. Not any person. Also I was molested. My mother’s family has a history of pedophilia.
My mother might be armchair diagnosed as narcissistic, or borderline, or histrionic, or… psychopathic... But almost definitely also with complex trauma of her own. Especially given her own parents predelictions.
Tim Fletcher talks about how 97% of people with addictive tendencies have complex trauma. I think it was also him who said that if complex trauma were given its due (something like 70%) of the dsm would be removed.
In my own life, i’m a relatively functioning person. I am a teacher. I am a parent. I’m a loving husband. But in some way, inside I am totally and irreparably broken in a way that is unbearably excruciating. What is broken? Where is this pain coming from?
I ran into some issues before that seemed straight up karmic and I could straight up deal with them with Buddhist methods like karmic purification. I used to constantly hurt my back, i had repeat herniated discs, and I’d get poisoned a lot , i’d meet a lot of enemies, have insecure conditions. This is a karmic issue, and when i started doing dharma practice with the protections of lineage these symptoms eased up, the evil spirits went away, the back injury healed, i dont get poisoned or sick as much.
But then under this I discovered this emotional trauma related to childhood. Teal Swan talks about spiritual bypassing with regards to trama. I think I wanted to do this previously, before I discovered what is trauma. That if I could do the mantra enough times, then, I wouldn’t have to face the pain or do the work psychologically to reconnect with the shattered parts of myself.
But I didn’t know it’s possible to do it. Buddhism, especially vajrayana methods, gave me the tools to access the broken and fearful parts of my psyche. And then an understanding of trama and the relevant psychology helped me to hone my tools to deal with it more effectively.
There is something called Internal Families Systems, or “parts.” the parts of the psyche are not like one person. They are like many people, and that have different roles. Your psyche also has in it versions of your self as a child, as etc. etc. It’s all in your psyche.
At some points this becomes magical and like a shamanic journeying. You are enting the void to retrieve the broken parts of yourself and you must over come the fear of deaht to do it. Like physical therapy it is fucking painful.
In the “parts” system, there is a role called “protector.” In Tibetan Buddhism there is also something called a “protector,” or dharmapala.
Some Buddhist practices don’t consider deities to be external to us but parts of our own psyche. This is an exact fit with the relevant psychology. As I understand, Jung had some things to say about this but I never studied Jung.
Something i’m working with nowadays also is to recognise triggers. I think that this word was poisoned by memes. Triggered has come to mean “asshole.” I am a high school teacher and for so many years, “I am triggered” was the punchline for every joke. They were making fun of the people who had misused the word.
But this word needs to be dusted off, this is a real thing. I thought before that I had ptsd but i didn’t really contemplate what that meant. If you have ptsd, triggers are going to fuck you up. Learning to manage them is part of shamanic journeying. Sometimes, even now, when I hear a door opening or closing my stomach wrenches and my cortisol spikes and my heart races. I have to try to explain to my wife, what is this , why is it happening, how can she help. And it's hard to do because if something is your trigger, trying to talk about it can cause you to dissociate. But not recognising your triggers can cause you to dissociate too. And you are living like a zombie emotionally.
I didn't even understand that I was dissociating as a tactic to deal with unmanageable pain.
In my opinion the part that Buddhist practices brings to thet able that mere psychology does not is protection from karmic problems that you can’t solve with ordinary means. For example - let’s say that you’ve got some especially sticky negative karma caused by something very bad you did, and every time you try to approach healing your trauma, something gets in the way. Let’s say there are some demons feeding on your suffering and every time you approach improvement, they throw obstacles at you or press your pain so you don’t have the strength to do it.
It’s a lot more difficult to beat those types of demons without lineage protection. If you’ve figured out how to get to a level of Buddhist practice where you’ve actually got real lineage protection, you aren’t concerned about any of this kind of obstacle. Demons can’t hurt you. Negative spirits aren’t a real threat anymore. So then you can face the real darkness in your heart and you know you’re safe. It can’t really destroy you. Because the really truly fearsome things in the world, they can’t hurt you because you are under that lineage umbrella.
One of the fun things about the story of Guru Rinpoche is that he’s quite badass. This is very appealing for people who have encountered strong evils in the world. When Guru Rinpoche went about the world, terrible demons confronted him everywhere and he kicked their fucking ass every time. Knowing that he is willing and able to beat the shit out of demons is definitely relevant to spiritual practice where confronting your karmic chains is actually and in fact going to cause demonics spirits who don’t want you getting free to come around and start fucking with you. And if you’ve been fucked with by spirits, sometimes magicians and these people can talk about this, but having looked at all that I think it’s better not to play harry potter to deal with harmful spirits and instead to rely on the protection of Buddhist lineage.
Arya Tara is sometimes called “the one who protects from fears” and I once heard this explained that in Tibetan, “fears” means both the emotion of fear and the thing that you are afraid of, the dangerous thing.
Mantras have magical powers and this is an easy way to connect to lineage. In some cases I had to use buddhist mantras do deal with the physical consequences of trauma. For example perpetual fear, that kind of wrenches the heart and causes pain in the chest. Chanting the Vajra Guru Mantra I found actually dissipates this fear. And if you have these symptoms of trauma you are sick, all the time, so if there is some kind of relief to the pain you will take it.
That is enough for now
Om ah hung benza guru pema siddhi hung
Om tare tuttare ture soha

I want to share my story and assert my place in the MTF community. I was assigned female at birth (AFAB), but I've always identified as male. Over time, I've embraced my true self and am living as a man.
I know that traditionally MTF refers to those assigned male at birth who transition to female, but my experience is just as valid. Gender identity is a deeply personal journey, and I stand by my truth. I'm MTF, and my starting point doesn't invalidate that.
To anyone else out there on a similar path, know that your identity is valid and you have a place here. Let's support each other in our diverse experiences and continue to build an inclusive community.
Thanks for reading and being awesome.

Hello there, wonderful Erotica lovers! The (self-proclaimed) CEO of erotica is back once more, offering to bring your craziest fantasies into reality!
To not waste any of your precious reading time, I’ll get right into my rates and experience:
On this subreddit, I only offer the type of work where I'm rescinding the rights to the works I’ve provided (which means you are free to use them in for-profit projects and belong to you), starting at $0.08w. As for roleplay, I always keep the stories, and charge $30/hr.

Regarding my experience, I’ve worked in:

3 erotic indie games (two of which I signed NDAs for, so I cannot provide much information, but the other project I can freely speak about, and I’m sure my employer would be open to recommending my services!)
Three audio erotica companies (once again two under NDAs, the last one I can show the scripts and details for!). The content was mostly based around High-fantasy/D&D {Forgotten Realms} inspired) writing, but I also have experience with writing “sister’s friend falls in love with you” or “emo girl wants you” type content.
I’ve written dozens of personal commissions, from short 2K stories up to a 15K novellete.

• Some of my work has been focused in extreme kink (CBT, Guro, Slave, Hucow, Gigantism, Vore, Rape/Abuse, CNC, Extreme BDSM, Raceplay, etc), and I also have experience with Cuckolding and Hotwife content.
• I wrote and edited a kink content novellete that was themed around high-concept, extreme BDSM, free-use, CNC and Harem content.

I have ample experience in erotic worldbuilding (yes, you can have that and it’s very fun).
Over the years I’ve developed an extensive erotic roleplaying career with dozens of partners.

• My personal mascot, Quinn the Velvet, specializes in Femdom, humiliation, teasing and escort-services.
• I have gained a lot of experience in Cuckold and topping in general, both as Male and Female characters, with several regulars that can testify to my prowess.
• I have a either: natural ease at achieving new and niche kinks and enjoy exploring the unknown; or a fascinating obsession to figure it out exactly, making sure to please you with either option all the same.

Here's my portfolio in case you want to take a quick look at some of my work!: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iTJS-47GagzDNQuSip18Kba0zzVISl0n?usp=drive_link
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Limits: Underaged (this is self-explanatory) and scat. Everything else is fair game, so let’s chat!

After listening to the Pamela Tapes in Friday the 13th: The Game, Pamela states to police that Elias Voorhees was not Jason’s real father after all. Instead, she was forced upon by an unknown man. A man that was only described as strong and with “hatred in his eyes”. Pamela becomes pregnant from this event, eventually giving birth to a child with severe facial (and presumably mental) deformities. Since then, she became paranoid and fearful of this man, afraid that he might come back to take Jason away from her, which is why she marries Elias in the first place so he can protect them from him.
Even though she doesn’t state how old he was in the tapes, Pamela said that Jason told her to kill Elias because he was a threat to the both of them. In the comic miniseries Friday the 13th: Pamela’s Tale, it shows that she killed Elias while she was still pregnant with Jason, claiming that she heard his voice telling him to do it. Whether or not she actually heard him say that or she’s just completely insane is totally ambiguous, and it’s also unclear as to whether or not the Pamela Tapes and the comic miniseries are even connected. But let’s assume that they are, and they are also both canon to the overall Friday the 13th mythos.
As a person who studied European/Celtic folklore, I couldn’t help but notice some striking parallels between Jason and a mythical creature known as a cambion.
For those who may not be familiar with Celtic mythology, a cambion is an offspring between a human woman and an incubus. Cambion’s are often born disfigured and grotesque looking, and grow up to become outcasts by society. However, they are also born with supernatural powers and abilities, such as the ability to shape-shift, to predict the future, and interestingly, immortality and the ability to speak fluently as a newborn. Some legends also state that they can speak to their mothers from the womb.
There are also some legends that incubi return for their cambion offspring when they become of a certain age, usually to teach them new things. I thought this was super interesting since again, according to the Pamela Tapes, Pamela was afraid that this mysterious man, who is Jason’s real father, would try and come back to take him away. What’s even more peculiar is that it’s never outright stated that Pamela ever witnessed her son’s drowning, but is assumed to have been what happened. Who’s to say that this mysterious man didn’t abduct Jason, whether he saved him from drowning or just simply took him without anyone noticing?
After noticing all these parallels, I also couldn’t help but notice some loose similarities between Jason and another legendary cambion that many of you might have heard about before: Merlin.
Yes, THAT Merlin. The wizard from Arthurian legend. Now if this sounds like a stretch, hear me out.
Merlin from early Welsh folklore is MUCH more different from modern tellings of the character. In early legends, Merlin wasn’t even connected to King Arthur at all, and was described as a disfigured child born from a human mother and an incubus father. As a newborn, Merlin saves his mother’s life from different threats by communicating with her fluently and using his other supernatural powers. At some point during his adulthood, he becomes traumatized by war and other dark events in his life, which causes him to go mad and become a “wild man of the woods”. Sound familiar?
Another cambion Jason shares many similarities with is the monster known as Grendel from the epic poem Beowulf. Some of you might already recognize that as the name of the space ship from Jason X, which is what the name is derived from. In Beowulf, Grendel is tormented by the sounds of joy and singing coming from the mead hall of Heorot, which compels him to attack it and it’s inhabitants every night for 12 years. This draws the attention of the poem’s hero, Beowulf, who goes to destroy Grendel by waiting for him at the mead hall and mortally wounding him. A dying Grendel retreats to his cave, where his mother awaits, and his mother subsequently swears her revenge on Beowulf.
Many people online have pointed out the similarities between Beowulf and the original Friday the 13th film, even if the similarities are all purely coincidental and not at all the creator’s intention. Still, I can’t help but be somewhat amazed by it.
It’s kinda given me a new head-canon for the franchise, as it gives a cool and spooky mythological origin to Jason for me. With him being an unholy offspring between a human and incubus, giving him a ghastly appearance and certain supernatural powers, and also giving him a plausible explanation of what happened to him after he drowned/disappeared by having him be taken and raised by his demon father to become some sort of monster. I don’t know, I feel like something cool could come from this and I’d like to flesh out this idea in a story or fan-film someday.
What do you guys think?

Hi everyone,
I'm a 24-year-old guy currently living in Spain. moved from Colombia when I was 13. I'm an open-minded, somewhat shy, and introverted person. My interests are diverse, spanning from video games and art to philosophy and psychology. In my free time, I enjoy playing video games, painting, writing, photography, and sculpting. I'm also an avid reader, particularly of fantasy novels(cosmere c:), and I love outdoor activities.
Although I'm trying to incorporate yoga and running into my routine, consistency isn't my strong suit. Recently, I've been exploring fashion but haven't quite nailed down my style yet (currently, I'm really into long coats).
I initially studied fashion photography but later switched to Concept Art (desing for videogamea and films), which I've been studying for the past 3-4 years. I had to learn to paint and draw from scratch and spent six months at an atelier. My daily routine now involves online studies, reading, and trying to maintain some semblance of a routine.
I don't smoke or drink, which is part of why I'm reaching out here. In terms of relationships, I've only recently started thinking about what I truly want. I appreciate simplicity, genuine fun, and humor. Emotionally, I've been working on understanding and expressing my feelings, and I've made significant progress, though there's always more to learn. Open communication and mutual respect are important to me, and I seek someone who is fun in their own unique way.
Physically, I'm 1.88 m, have shoulder-length hair, and I'm slender but not particularly fit (working on that). My birthday is coming up in less than a month (cue mild panic).
There are many more things I plan to do and experience, but I'll save those stories for another time. Looking forward to meeting someone special here! (Thank you for reading).
Feel free to reach out if any of this resonates with you.
Cheers!

Could I be sued by my previous employer for “breaking” their NDA?
Backstory: I quit this family in April of this year. I was with them for almost 2 years and was a live in 4 days out of the week. Many issues regarding unfair treatment was the main reason, but I did not want to state that to the parents. I was under the impression that I was going to be let go, because they hired a new nanny and did not tell me until she got out on the schedule. So I quit. I thanked them for the opportunity and moved on. I got a job in a completely unrelated field, and am really happy with it.
Last night, I was on a nanny group in Facebook, and saw a member was having a similar issue to what I dealt with, and was asking for advice. I typed up a paragraph about my personal experience and what i perceived to be true. 20 minutes later, my old manager(the house manager) Responded to my comment basically saying that my story wasn’t the truth and saying that violates the NDA that I signed last year. I will note: the NDA was very vague. Mostly pertaining to the parent’s company and the general “don’t post our kids” and “don’t take pictures of items in our house”
Could they technically hold me accountable? I deleted my comment and removed her off my Facebook. There was no mention of location, parents names, or children’s names in my comment. No connections can be made because I have never posted about where and what family I worked for. The nanny group is a nationwide community, not local. Legally, could they do anything to me? They’re considered a HPF for my town. I’m just trying to see if there was any rule that I actually broke? Considering no names were mentioned? I was talking about an experience I had there, without mentioning crucial information about the family.

CONTEXT: My single mom (44, dad is legally not in the picture for me), is extremely against anything LGBTQIA+ and has shown a lot of favoritism towards my brother since a "friend" (obviously former now) told her that i was questioning if i was a part of the community 5 years ago. I have since figured some things out and confirmed them with myself with not one bit of acceptance from her. She has since (from the 5 fucking years ago) decided that it's ok to say a lot of shitty things to me because of it and, ironically, doesn't see the problem with her constantly telling me that i don't deserve to be alive and still proceeds to question why the hell i want to move out at 16.
My brother (17) has a TON of medical issues that do affect some of his day to day life but not to the point of him not being able to function like a healthy person who can function on their own (he sometimes gets dizzy spells or horrible headaches but he can still function through them). He has kidney refluxes with/on (idk which makes sense here, i don't much about it tbh) both of his kidneys (his right one is still functional enough that he could survive off only it if came down to it but his left isn't), long term covid symptoms including diagnosed POTS (he has never had any issues with fainting), known issues with excessive PVCs (no that have been too serious but they are there), known ADHD and HMSD, and is suspected to have autism (my mom won't get him tested for autism because she got judged by her family for getting my brother tested for ADHD when he was 4), less verbal side if so.
I (15) have known long term covid symptoms including neuropathy (no confirmations of what kind), known HMSD, and possible ADHD and autism (see explanation above about brother's suspected autism with no testing, pertains to both the suspected autism and ADHD in me), highly verbal side if so. My neuropathy and HMSD (with a little help from a shitty drumline director) have led to me being in a cam boot twice now (the first time, she made me wait 3 weeks before taking me to a doctor and she didn't even get me a brace or anything for my foot, the second time was 2 weeks but i thankfully had a brace already), on the same fucking foot, once even with a period that i was supposed to be fully non-weight baring. During that time, i was not fully non-weight baring because my mom forced me to do the rotating family chore (in reality, it's mostly just me doing it but my brother does it sometimes and our mom does it if she absolutely has to) of taking my brother's energetic 100lbs boxer-lab (breed of dog) outside everyday (yes, this important, it makes everything make a little more sense). I am now stuck wearing braces on both feet (that i have to and, luckily, can put on everyday by myself) everyday because of the potential of having an issue that could lead me right back into that damn boot again (it and i are not friends, i despise it with a burning fucking passion).
My brother has had a pretty ok year this past year with his medical issues (up until roughly 2 weeks ago) and ended up getting his learner's permit last year but he's kind of let it sit and done nothing with it. He has been also had 14 (that i know of) different at-home coding job offers (he is a tech wiz, enters competitions for that stuff all the time and ends up in the top three almost every time, he has had two od our uncles and our cousin, with jobs in tech, and his coding teacher recommend him for multiple different jobs and has been approached by multiple different companies without recommendations for offers) this past year that he has turned down because he DOES NOT WANT A JOB. Basically, he has had the opportunities and has chosen not to take them. Two weeks ago, my brother had an issue while playing soccer, fell over a ball and sprained his ankle (she took him to the ER right away, got him a brace the next fucking morning when the ER doctor said he shouldn't need one). Since then, my mom has treated him like a fucking a baby, and, to be honest, he's fucking milking it at this point (if he wants to do something, his ankle is perfectly fine and doesn't even need to wear the brace our mom got him half the fucking time, if it's not, "oh, but my ankle hurts!" and i have to put the damn brace on him because "he can't figure out how to do it himself!"). During this time, he has not once had to take out HIS dog, she has put it all on me because she doesn't want to fucking do it either.
I, on the other hand, have been looking for people that hire at my age in our city for over a year (there are lot of laws that get in the way with most jobs so even though the legal hiring age is 14 in our state, most places don't hire anyone under 16. HOWEVER, i have a couple interviews for possible long-term babysitting jobs over these next few weeks with a couple of different families that have asked me about working for them) because i want to work and have been studying our states' traffic laws to hopefully get my learner's permit in July so i can potentially move out at 16 in January of next year (it is legal to move out at 16 with parental permission in my state, my mom has agreed to give me a signature once i turn 16).
STORY: I recently had a conversation with my mom about her possibly getting a used truck from someone for $2000 (it's in good condition, my friend's parents just want to get it off their hands after getting a new truck, they offered it to me because they know i've been looking into cars) and me using it while paying it off once i get a job (i'd be moving into the truck for a couple months but eventually be moving in with my cousin, who is an adult, that's the whole reason why i'm looking into cars right now). We had a serious conversation about it and she said she'd be open to doing it if i agreed to pay her $3000 for the truck itself and anything she'd need to pay for insurance on it as well, i said that was fine by me as long as she understood i'd be doing it over time, possibly even until or after i'm 18, which she told me was fine. I talked to my friend's parents, they said it was fine but they needed to talk to her about it then since the car would be paying them for it so i gave her their contact info and she told me they were starting to talk about the sale. That was the last i heard of it until three days ago when i saw it on facebook market place.
I decided to confront her about, i showed her the listing for the truck and asked why it was on marketplace since she was buying it for me to which she said "i decided that i'm not going to be getting that because i think you should wait on that stuff since your brother hasn't gotten his license or a job yet. hell, you really shouldn't even be moving out at 16 but i'm letting you do that so you really should be considerate and wait on getting job and your permit until he gets a job and his license like a good younger sibling since i'm even letting you move out before he does." (obviously didn't say sibling but i'd rather say sibling on the internet, lol). I snapped and told her that i honestly didn't care anymore about being the "good younger sibling" because they couldn't care less about me, which is obvious from the way she treats me compared to how she treats my brother and the way he couldn't give two fucks about me when i'm pushing myself to my limits and continues piling his shit onto me, that i'm done caring about their opinions on my life because i've been walking on eggshells around them for too long and i have people in my life who actually have the common human decency to call me by my preferred name and use my preferred pronouns, so she can say whatever the hell she wants but i'm still going to try my damndest to get my permit and a job. She then called me an ungrateful brat and told me that the world would be better if she would've aborted her "waste of space, useless, ungrateful, asshole of child" that i am. Neither of us have said anything to each other than what was necessary since that conversation and i've refused to do the simple things that she and my brother are both capable of but have been putting on me like taking out the dog but i know she has told my family about the "issue" because she's gotten them to text me nonstop and tell me how horrible i am for saying such things and that i should be happy to be who "god" has made me, that i should be grateful to have a good christan woman like my mom who cares about me enough to tell me how wrong i am about MY LIFE.
So, AMITAH in this situation? I know, i shouldn't really care about their opinions and the shit they say at this point but some of the things my family is saying has me thinking i should've just kept my mouth shut.

Messages:
Me: I like the new hair color, it looks really pretty
Her: thank you! I kept getting made fun of it so it's nice to hear🤦🏽‍♀️
Me: Idk what they're talking abouts I thought it complemented your eyes and suits you, if you're down I was thinking we should get to know each other a little better
Context;
The person I texted was someone my friends knew but I only knew of them but didn't know them. I thought she was hot so l decided to reply to her story— it was about her changing her hair color and saying how she missed her old hair. My friend told me this would be rizz if I sent her the latest message on the screen . After 2 hr's, some of my other friends told me that she was talking to someone and said my message was crap and cringy. She still hasn't responded and it's been 3 hours. How cooked am I? Also* she's friends with a lot of girls I know.

I love Vegas history. This is a list of books that I have read or have interest in. Please add suggestions or comments. In no particular order:

• Blood Aces by Doug Swanson. Biography of Benny Binnion. This guy made the mafia look like boy scouts. A truly wild, incredible story. His ranch house still stands just outside of downtown.
• Grandissimo: The First Emperor of Las Vegas: How Jay Sarno Won a Casino Empire, Lost It, and Inspired Modern Las Vegas by David Schwartz. Sarno gave us Caesars Palace and Circus Circus. He was a loathsome figure, but influential on the Strip.*
• The Gambler by William C. Rempel. A biography of Kirk Kerkorian. He is responsible for the Strip as we know it more than any other individual, but does not get credit because he was modest and kept a strategically low profile during life. The opposite of Sarno. Just an amazing human being. What he did for victims and employees following the MGM Grand fire ought to be remembered and celebrated forever. He is one of my top 10 heroes. *
• Howard Hughes: His Life and Madness by James B. Steele. Hughes continues to have a massive impact on this town a half century after his death.
• Positively Fifth Street: Murderers, Cheetahs, and Binion's World Series of Poker by James McManus. Fun read*
• A Gamble in the Desert: The Mormon Mission in Las Vegas (1855-1857) by Fred Woods. Detailed history of the failed Mormon mission to Las Vegas (Old Mormon Fort downtown). Cringe title, but good interesting history.
• Quiet Kingmaker by Jack Sheehan. Biography of Parry Thomas (of Thomas & Mack fame) who was responsible for financing Las Vegas as it began to grow and expand.
  
• A Natural History of the Mojave Desert by Lawrence C. Walker and Fredrick Landau. A great history and explanation of the geography, flora and fauna of this beautiful and brutal desert. I was surprised how much I loved this. It's also now cool to be able to see plants and animals and know what they are and how they survive/act in this seemingly Mars like environment.*
  
• Murder in Sin City by the late Jeff German. A history of the Ted Binion murder trial. I have a paperback copy, which I haven't read. Tragic that we lost German to murder.
  
• Casino: Love and Honor in Las Vegas by Nicholas Pileggi. Basis of the 1995 Movie Casino. Based upon the true story of Lefty Rosenthal (Ace Rothstein).
  
• One of A Kind by Nolan Dalla. Biography of Stu Ungar, the greatest poker player of all time. An amazing, tragic, true story. As a poker player, my heart still breaks a little over the arc of his life.*
  

*Books I have read.
I would like to find a good biography of Helen Stewart. She is so underrated not just in Vegas history, but also the history of the American West. She and her husband Archibald come to this valley and start a ranch long before the railroad has arrived, but long after both the Mormons and military have abandoned their outposts. It's an impossibly difficult situation. Yet, it became much worse when Archibald was murdered. Yet Helen finds a way to make the ranch thrive. After the railroad comes, she became a leading civic figurer. She started the Clark County School District, for example. So not only did this person overcome impossible odds with her ranch, but when civilization came, she was able to thrive again in a totally different environment. She is amazing and I would love to find a biography that does her justice. Her story is so awesome, so Vegas. We are arguably the only major city in the nation (and world? maybe?) that was effectively founded by a woman.

Messages:
Me: I like the new hair color, it looks really pretty
Her: thank you! I kept getting made fun of it so it’s nice to hear 🤦🏽‍♀️
Me: Idk what they’re talking about😂 I thought it complemented your eyes and suits you, if you’re down I was thinking we should get to know each other a little better
Context; The person I texted was someone my friends knew but I only knew of them but didn’t know them. I thought she was hot so I decided to reply to her story—— it was about her changing her hair color and saying how she missed her old hair. My friend told me this would be rizz if I sent her the latest message on the screen . After 2 hr’s, some of my other friends told me that she was talking to someone and said my message was crap and cringy. She still hasn’t responded and it’s been 3 hours. How cooked am I? Also* she’s friends with a lot of girls i kinda know.

Almost every influencer or somewhat famous person I know is constantly putting up eyes on rafah story. My feed both on Facebook and Instagram is bombarded with Palestinian children and women getting attacked. Why is this such a big effort for a relatively small war, like how is this allowed to go? Don't they know facts? The palestinian cause is the destruction of Israel, they literally say this. Over the past months, I've seen every lie being thrown at Israel, from genocide to apartheid. What is happening and why is this selective moral outrage clearly rooted somewhat in antisemitism has been allowed to go on. I can't even imagine how much pollution has been spread to young people. They are literally being fed propaganda as Hamas uses its dead for PR. This would take a massive effort to undo. These people might be in leadership positions tomorrow, How will you guys counter this in the future?

I'm very young for a hysterectomy (19) but my cramps and mood swings are AWFUL. Emphasis on the mood swings, i get dangerously depressed/suicidal every cycle. I've tried over 15 meds, I'm in therapy, none of it helps. Don't want kids and I've always known that so that's not much of an issue. I want to get the surgery for the purposes of getting rid of my period, sterilization, and most importantly, improving my mental health. But... I'd wanna leave my ovaries intact which makes me question how effective it's gonna be with me keeping all those hormones. Does anyone have any advice or personal stories?

(Disclaimer: this is essentially my life story, so I understand if you don't want to sit and read a full novel of some depressing fuck's cry for help, but I couldn't find a way to condense it, sorry.)
Life is shit right now. It's taken a long time for me to admit it, but there's just no more beating around the bush anymore. I'm trapped in a profound sadness that refuses to loosen it's hold on me, and I don't know what to do. I don't want to end it all, I never have, but I've just been through so much that it's hard to believe things could ever get better.
I'm 24(M), and 4 years ago I lost both of my parents, 10 months ago my girlfriend of 6 and a half years broke up with me, and just a few weeks ago the company I had been planning to work for over half my life shut its doors for good. Now I'm sat with no clear path forward and a brother trying to take what little I have left, and I just don't know how to move on.
I lost my dad on February 29th, 2020. He had been in and out of the hospital for the past couple months for constipation, didn't think much of it, he was 68 after all. One night I come in to visit him in the hospital and I walk in on a surgeon explaining something to him and my mother. It turns out that results from the latest test had come in and a polyp had burst in his large intestine, he was quickly developing sepsis and if they didn't operate soon he wouldn't see the sunrise. A few minutes to sort his thoughts and make some calls to my aunts for advice and he decided that the surgeon who talked to us was more than welcome to operate since he offered, it just so happened he was one of the highest rated gastro-intestinal surgeons in Texas (don't know if I got the name of the surgeon right, my bad). So they prep him for surgery and as they wheal him off to put him under he grabs onto my hand, with tears in his eyes, and says "Take care of your mother." He had a look in his eyes, he didn't think he'd get to open them again. But sure enough a few anxiety-inducing hours later the surgeon comes back out and lets us know that everything went off without a hitch, they managed to remove the blockage and clean everything up without issue. Dad spent the next week in recovery at that hospital, but I only managed to visit him there once. I hate hospitals, but I love my dad, so when I saw him in there, all strapped up with hoses poking in and out of him, I put a smile on and rubbed his feet like I always did (he broke both his legs and shattered an ankle years ago, the man was lucky to walk to begin with, so you'd better believe I'd help in any way I could). That's the last picture ever taken of me and my dad, with him strapped to a hospital bed and me giving him a foot massage. The next time I saw him he had been discharged without me knowing, so I headed back home to our rural town late one night when he said I could visit. I'd had a lot to think about then, I'd always thought I had so much more time with Dad, that I'd only have to say goodbye when I was good and ready and he had seen us through our biggest moments. By then I wasn't so sure, so I sat with him on that Friday night and just talked, for as long as I could. I told him the little things I'd been hanging on to for far too long, the kinds of things that didn't matter in the slightest but you'd never tell your parents because you're too embarrassed. I told him about how I bumped into someone at a stoplight right after high school, but I convinced the other guy not to get insurance involved because I didn't want him to know and end up costing him more money, so I just used all of my savings and my graduation gift to pay the guy off after he replaced his rear bumper. All dad had to say about that was "you should have gotten insurance involved, that's what it's for." We laughed, and he thanked me for telling him, said it proved that I was the man he always wanted me to be. We talked about a lot, I tried to hug him tight, but since the surgery was on his gut they couldn't just stitch him up. He was so bloated before the surgery that he looked pregnant, so the skin around his gut was delicate and they had to bandage him up and put this weird circulator on him to keep it clean. Either way, I hugged him as best I could, told him I loved him, that he should take it easy, and that I'd talk to him soon. I remember looking through the door as I walked away, he was just laid up in bed watching TV. I gave him a peace sign as I walk off, he always did the same, whether we were looking or not. That was 9:30 PM. At 6 the next morning I woke to my mom calling me in tears, she said dad was gone. They had spoken after I left, talked about what we discussed, and he said he couldn't get comfortable in bed so he'd moved over to the recliner in the living room. He didn't wake up. Later on when we finally got the reports back they said he had passed peacefully in his sleep due to a heart attack. Dad had heart problems before, he had a quadruple bypass when I was about 8 and a stint placed in later on due to a murmur in his heart, and ever since he'd been taking meds. There were so many little details that stuck with me from that day. He was wearing a pair of socks I gave him when I came back on the 29th. The night before he said he didn't think he'd wake back up after the surgery, but he did, which meant God wasn't done with him yet. I still remember the sound of my mom's sobs from behind the wall of my bed, my brother and I stayed with her for the first week afterwards.
I was always aware that I had a great life, but I had never lost anything so major, never had something so horrid and life-changing happen to me. One moment I was getting used to my new classes for the semester in college, and the next thing I knew my life had flipped ass over teakettle and the world was imploding. The combination of the pandemic hitting right as I experienced the worse loss of my life, in the middle of my second year of college, certainly didn't help either. To be honest, it's still a blur. I don't remember much of those months, only that the days blurred together as I barely perceived time passing. The semester ended, and one day when my brother are checking on Mom, she suddenly rushed out the door with a sack of vodka bottles in tow, got in her car, and drove off to work. We had worried she may have fallen off again, but had been hoping against hope she wouldn't. Mom had been alcohol my entire life, I won't get into it, but when we went to her work and my brother drove her home, we had to carry her upstairs ourselves after she fell into a potted plant with vomit on her shirt. Not too long after we staged an intervention and had her checked back into rehab. At the end of her first month she would decide if she'd stay for a second and third, and despite the pleas of my brother and I, she wouldn't listen. We said we were done with her. We had given her all the love and support we could, but if that wasn't going to work then we'd resort to our only other option and cut her out. When she checked out of rehab I drove her home. I thought I could try one last time to talk some sense into her, that maybe she'd listen to reason. In the end she just ignored me, so I said everything I could think to say. If it was going to be the last time I got to talk to her, then I'd make use of that ride home and tell her everything I could think of. Just like Dad. I dropped her off at the family home, gave her a hug, told her I loved her, and watched as she got smaller in the mirror as I drove away. About a week later on July 9th, I got a call from my brother and my Aunt, her little sister. She was gone. They found her in a CVS parking lot in her car, upside down. She had been there for hours. We don't know exactly what happened. She may have had a seizure. All we know is that the reports came back with "complications due to alcohol abuse and fatty liver."
After that, the estate fell to my brother and I as the sole inheritors. I'm thankful for everyone that came out of the woodworks to help us. Our aunts helped with the will and all of the proceedings that came after. A lot had to be done, and a 20 year old still in college (me) and a 24 year old fresh out of college (my brother), were not the ones capable to taking care of it all. It took months to sort it all out. Hell, some of it never got resolved because we just never knew what to do. What matters is that we had the time and space to grieve, and so I did.
It turns out I've always had depressive tendencies, but at this point I had fully developed an Anxiety and Depressive disorder. It came to a head one Summer day when I just couldn't take it anymore. I'd always wrestled with the concept of Death, that after everything that happens in your life it all just ends, nothing, just an end to all, void, nothingness. I hated it. It stills sends me into panic attacks to this day, and has since I was a child. That Summer day I hit rock bottom, and I couldn't think of anything else, because what else could matter if it was all going to end anyway? Why should I care? I'm not going to care when I'm gone, so why care now? It's not like I'll be around to regret leaving if I chose to end it all. These were the thoughts that flooded my mind, and they wouldn't go away. I took a walk. I went through my neighborhood, cut through the trees at the cul-de-sac near the bottom of the hill, and came to a path that led to a nearly dry creak. the water was barely flowing, but I was sweaty and I wanted to sit. So there I sat and contemplated it all. The absolute inconsequentiality of life and all its meaninglessness. I looked down and saw a rock, picked it up, and thought to myself just how long it would take to bash my brains out and end it all right there. Sure it would hurt, but only for so long, then it would be gone, and I'd stop hurting. I don't know how long I really sat there looking at that rock, but eventually a family of four came walking down the path and I had to get up to get out of their way since I was sitting in the middle of the path. I dropped the rock, let them pass, and walked back home. after that I called my friends, got the name and number for their doctor, and booked an appointment later that week. Ever since then I've been medicated and I'm better for it. I don't believe in those thoughts anymore, but it scares me that I got to a point that I nearly listened to them. I've back to that creek bed since, and it's actually very pretty right after a storm, when all the trees are still dripping with rainwater.
Fast-forward a few years and it's May 2023, I struggled and I stumbled, but I felt like I had made progress. I felt far from past it, but I was moving on. I graduated with a Bachelor's in Science for Art and Entertainment Technologies. I didn't know exactly what I'd do with it, but I felt like I could figure it out with the city I was in. I went up to celebrate my girlfriend's graduation a few weeks later up in Missouri, we had been together for six and a half years. We met in high school in the same friend group, stuck through college in a long-distance relationship, and I thought we would go all the way. Over that summer after we both graduated she had to take one last internship to finish up her degree. I visited when I had the chance, but over the course of the summer I worked to make sure the house lived in would be ready for her, ready for two people to live in together once we finally started our lives together. She spent another two and a half months in Missouri, and the day she got back on July 29th she broke up with me. She had her dad drive her down the night before, and she spent that night with me after the long trip. The next morning after waking up and having breakfast, she sat me down and said she didn't think we should be together anymore. It was something she decided on over the Summer, she said she'd been thinking about it for a bit and finally had a gut feeling that we should split up. There wasn't anyone else, she actually explained that it was the opposite. She had lived her entire life with barely any privacy. As the middle child of 6 children she rarely, if ever, got a moment to herself. She only ever had one room to herself, but even then it was in a smaller house with 4 other people, and no locks on her door. When she left for college she had to share a dorm with her roommate, and when she came back for the Winter and Summer breaks she stayed with me (I also have a housemate, so even then the privacy wasn't perfect). Over the course of that last Summer she finally had a room all to herself, a single dorm for 2 and a half months. During her internship it was the exact same, she worked in an archive, which are quiet on a bad day and silent as the grave every other day. Couple that with the fact that she only ever work with one other person (her supervisor), and that's if they worked with anyone else there at all, for 40 hours a week. She told me that summer gave her the alone time she never had the chance to take before, and spent a lot of it thinking, spending all the time she never got before to be alone with her thoughts. A couple weeks before she came back she had come to the conclusion that she didn't want to be in a relationship anymore. She gave me a lot of reasons for want to split up, that being one of them. The biggest reason, one she said she couldn't ignore, was that she thought we were becoming two very different people. She said she didn't think we would work if we stayed together, that the way she saw us going, it just wasn't going to work out. She told me she still loved me, but when I asked if it was in the same way as before, she could only shake her head. I still regret asking that. She left with her sister later that day, and came back with her family the next to pack up all her things and leave. When she was busy inside, I took a moment to talk to them and ask if I did anything wrong, they all said no. They said she was just the most independent person they all knew, and that I had nothing to be sorry for. It didn't help. When they were done she gave me one last moment with her, one last tear-stained kiss goodbye, but when she turned in the driveway to hand me back the extra key to the house, I broke down. I stood by the door just long enough to watch their car fade from view as they drove away, then I went back inside and collapsed into a void of sorrow and self-pity.
That was 10 months ago. I'd like to say I've made progress, but some days it's hard to believe that. In the time since I've spent a lot of time on myself, learning who I was and what I wanted to be. The main sticking point I had with her reasoning was that she was so certain we were going to end up two completely different people, but I didn't even know who I wanted to be. If I didn't know who I was, let alone who I was going to be, how could she be so definitively certain? A lot of time and self-reflection brought up a plethora of questions I'd never thought to ask myself. With a rural backwoods public Texas education, it turns out that a lot of mental health issues can fall between the cracks. I found out that I'm on the Autism Spectrum (I get my full Psych Eval later this week, so that's nice), I learned that I'm demisexual, and also that I get extremely, soul-crushingly lonely when I'm single. All my best friends had to move out of state last February (it's a long story but I can explain if necessary), so when we split up I had next to no one to fall back on nearby. I had acquaintances and others I could call, but the people I loved the most were a 13 hour drive away. I made the trip when I could, but it just wasn't the same. It's ironic though, I found a therapy service through a podcast she introduced me to. I've been seeing a reliable and caring therapist for 9 and a half of the past 10 months, so I'm grateful for that. I've come to learn that even if the crushing loneliness hurts the most, finding a new relationship isn't the right step forward. I spent long enough trying to make that happen, now I know it can't fix anything, nor should it.
For a while I was starting to feel things turning around. Not so much getting better, but it was a start. Then It got to February, and along with it another tide of problems. My brother has always been the one to party, since he was in high school and all throughout college he was the one that got the drinks and people together. When we became independent he was the one that got on my ass about not wasting our inheritance and only using it when absolutely necessary. It's ironic then, that he was the one to call me in late Feb telling me he'd blown through it all and gone bankrupt. For this next part I need to provide some context, so I'm sorry if it drags on. I never planned on moving out of the family home, but mom and dad had waited long enough and wanted me out, so mom agreed to find a place for me to stay and provide housing until I graduated college. She was a realtor for a big real estate company for over 25 years, and it just so happened that the last neighborhood she sold from had a model home the company wanted to get rid of. She pulled some strings and in the end she got it for a steal, like half the market price for a house in the area, with a monthly payment similar to most apartments in the same city. I'm well aware of how privileged I was and still am to this day, I don't want people to think I don't recognize the luck I've been given. However, when our parents passed the entirety of the estate was split 50/50 between my brother and I. Meaning that the house that I lived in at the time, and still have for the past 4 and a half years, is only half mine. This never really sat well with me, so when I eventually brought it up with my brother and asked about becoming the sole owner of my house, he agreed that it was the right call. The problem, is that he told me that he hand over his half for half of what the house would be sold for at maximum market price. He didn't want what we'd paid for, he didn't want half of what it was bought at, nor did he want any reasonable price, he wanted the most amount of money he could get for a home that wasn't his, nor was ever meant to be his (I want y'all to know that I already feel like the most privileged asshole ever having typed all this out, sorry for sounding like a shithead). Somewhere along the way, he got it in his head that I had already agreed to pay what he wanted me to for his half, and when he called me late Feb and asked for money, he got upset with me when I told him that I didn't want to. He got angry and started talking about how I owed him for my house, how I already agreed to pay him and that he'd count whatever I gave him as the start to my payment for the property I've lived on for nearly 5 fucking years. I panicked, and though I regret it, I caved and gave him far too much money (more than I'm willing to admit), in hopes he'd leave me alone. Unfortunately over the past 4 months he's only gotten worse.
Before this time we (my brother and our Aunts) came to the conclusion that the family home we had turned into an Airbnb was no longer sustainable. While it had been profitable for a good few months in 2022, by late 2023 it had turned into a money sink. There was more and more wear and deferred maintenance popping up with each passing month that by the time 2024 rolled around we were forced to choose between selling it off or emptying the rest of our inheritance in an attempt to fix it back up with no promise that it would be worth it. It sucked to do it, I spend the first 20 years of my life in that house, but in the end we gave the go ahead and my Aunt helped us put it on the market when Feb rolled around. The housing market where it's built is extremely competitive, it's on the outskirts of a rural tourist town with a view to die for, so we didn't think it would be too much waiting around before we got an offer. That was 4 months ago, and we haven't heard a word since, even though the first estimate was 6 weeks to 6 months. The agent helping us with the house let us know that there were over 60 homes being sold in the surrounding area, with half of them at a very similar price point. I don't feel comfortable revealing exactly what the house is priced at, but to give an idea, the money I'd make off of selling it, even after being split in half and reduced by taxes, would be enough to completely pay off the mortgage on my house and then some. The kicker to all of this, is that the house isn't in perfect condition. Even considering all the detracting factors, I'd say the price we have the house listed at is more than fair for the area, but nobody wants to buy a fixer-upper at that price point, even if it is worth it. To make all these matter worse, I found out recently that my brother has STILL been holding house parties there, even though he has a perfectly good party place where he currently lives! I found out when my Aunt told me about a showing we were going to have, but my brother tried to call and tell her to postpone it because he was going to be having a party the day before the showing was scheduled. In the middle of all this, he texts me out of the blue, trying to get me to talk to him and discuss something. I'm having none of it and tell him that if he needs to get something off his chest, he can text me or leave me alone, I don't want to talk. So he ends up sending me full fucking paragraphs, going on about how he's hit rock bottom, how we have to close the joint account we've been using to pay all the shared bills and expenses, and how he's so sorry for being a shitty older brother. Near the end of it he throws in how he recently lost his girlfriend to a drunk driver and that he's in mourning. I went digging and it turns out the girl he mentioned, who did tragically pass in an accident and was heavily mourned in the community, was not in a relationship with him for the past year and a half. I didn't know this until a month later though, so this all came out of the blue in a time where I just wanted to be done with him, so now I had no clue what to think. The way he spoke and said all the right things to make me feel for him hurt, it made me want to drive over to his house and throw my arms around him and tell him that he'd be okay and he wasn't alone. Then we found out about the party, and he never stopped using the joint account for all the bullshit personal spending he'd been using for before at liquor stores and bars, so I got to see first-hand what all he was spending both of our shared funds on (this is only one account I put money into when we need to pay bills, the majority of my money is in my own personal savings account that he doesn't have any access to). In short: he made it real obvious that everything he said to us was a complete and total lie, after pleading with me and making me take on the task of cancelling half the bills we had tied to the joint account just to save him the time and effort. He manipulated me, and it was plain as day to see it.
Now I'm at a point where I just have to wait for something to happen. I can't do a damn thing to change my shitty situation with my brother and my home. I want to cut him off, become fully independent, and leave all the trauma I have with him, but I literally can't. I have to wait until the family house is sold or he tries to come after me and my livelihood. I tried my best to research my options, but there's nothing I can do with my house unless he signs over his portion to me, and he won't do that unless he gets what he wants. The only thing I've been able to think of is that I could possibly take him to court and argue that his actions caused the selling price of our family home to go down, but I don't even know if that's possible or what it would do for me. I don't want to sue my brother, I just want to be done with him. I want to scream and yell and make him understand the stress he's put me through, make him feel the pain he's caused me my entire life just for wanting him to like me. I want to make him know just how much it hurts to have put so much effort into someone that was never going to care in the first place, but more than anything, I just want to be done with him.
I did the math, and unfortunately I now know that I have a time limit for the family home to be sold. Meaning that if the home isn't sold by the new year and we have to pay the property taxes again, I'll be the one taking the full brunt of that responsibility. If that happens I will either not have enough money in my savings to cover that cost, or I'll have just enough to pay for it and have nothing left. Either way, with how much the maintenance of everything has been draining our finances, I'd have to sell my current home to pay for the costs after property taxes are dealt with. It would solve so many issues if I just sold off my house, but it would hurt so God damn much. I've put so much effort into this house to try and make it feel like a home, make it feel like my home. When the world was falling apart and I lost everything else, this one house and the memories I made here were what kept me going. There are days where it feels like it's all I've got left. The last thing I want is to lose this house. I know I'd end up fine. I'd have funds left over to take care of me after it's sold, and the family home would sell eventually, but none of that would matter. I can see how long I might have left in this house in the pages left on the calendar hanging from my wall, and all I can do is wait for the other shoe to drop to see if I'm losing this too. All I can do is sit and fester in this shitty void of depression and anguish while I wait to find out what happens. I hate it.
When I didn't think anything could get worse, just a handful of weeks ago I idly checked Facebook and saw that my ex, the love of my life, had found herself a new boyfriend. Soul-crushing couldn't begin to describe what I felt. I thought I'd made progress, thought I'd said goodbye to my desire to rekindle what we once had. I thought I'd finally started to move on, but I suppose I didn't know how wrong I could be. She had changed her profile picture to one with her and him standing together, arm in arm. She looked so God damn gorgeous. I couldn't get over the fact that she had never done that when we were together, I guess I still haven't. I'm not even mad at her, or him, or anyone, I'm just in pain. I want her to be happy, she deserves to be happy, but all I can focus on is just how much I miss her. I saw her post about how they went to the zoo and it broke me. I've checked her Facebook so many times and I know I shouldn't, I keep telling myself that it's only going to hurt, but I still do it and it always breaks me down even more. For a short time she changed her picture to a different one and removed her relationship status, so I thought they had broken up. I feel guilty for even admitting it but it made me feel hope, like we still had a chance. I didn't want to give in to that feeling and set myself up for disappointment, but I couldn't help but feel like maybe she thought of what we had and there was a chance that the knowledge of who we were now would be enough to start something new. But I was wrong. She changed it to a new picture of the two of them a few days later, and it broke me all over again. It's strange, every time I start to feel like something is working, like I'm making some kind of progress, another bombshell comes hurtling around and blindsides me. I keep trying to get back on my own two feet, and I keep getting knocked back down. I feel myself becoming more and more jaded throughout all of this, and I'm trying so hard not to let myself become that. I feel the desire to just give up building more and more as the hurdles keep tripping me up, and I hate how appealing it's started to become. I'm just trying to find out who I am GOD DAMNIT, why can't anything just go fucking right.
I haven't had the motivation to do anything, it's always been an issue in my life that I've constantly fought against. From applying to college to finishing finals, I've only ever done the work that was most important when I had no other choice and at the last possible moment. Motivation and passion; these are the two things I've struggled with the most for the past year. I always knew that if I was going to find fulfilment in life, those would have to be my two guiding lights, or I'd end up sad and disappointed no matter where I found myself. Nothing seems to help, I can have fun when I make the conscious effort, but it doesn't feel the same. Now more than ever I've been putting in so much effort just to find out where I'm meant to be and what I'm meant to do. I've done and tried so many different things just to gain a better understanding of who that guy in the mirror staring back at me really is. I know I've made progress, logically it cannot be ignored that the steps I've made to get to the point that I have in life have done something, but it's gotten just so damn hard to see, and even more so to believe. There are days where I go through all the motions, I wake up, I eat, I do the things that I used to enjoy, but all I can think about is her and the amazing times we had. I think about all the plans we had together, the plan I had to ask her to marry me, the life we planned on building together. It just doesn't stop, but I'm doing so much to try and move forward. I just don't know if it's doing anything, if I'm just spinning my wheels in place while waste away on the inside. I schedule weekends where I can get away from it all and take a trip somewhere a few hours away, because even if I could be doing something else while I'm here, even I can recognize that a change in scenery and something new could always help. Sometimes it does help, other times it just feels like a distraction, and other times it just brings me back to the trips I used to take with her and the only thing I can think about is how much fun we'd be having if we were there together.
I used to think I knew what career I wanted in life. From a very young age I only ever wanted to work for the same company that produced the shows I grew up watching online. The things they made got me through so many darker times, and made the bright ones all the better to remember. I picked up new hobbies and learned new skills just to try and have an edge when I finally worked up the courage to apply for a job. I even picked up 3D modeling in high school just to get a head start from the inspiration their shows gave me. Then everything went to shit in my life, I lost nearly all direction, and I ended up too little too late. Two weeks ago the company that I'd been following for over half my entire life shut its doors for good, and I got to see one of my life-long dreams turn ash. At least I got to be there to say goodbye. They gave a lot to me, so I'm happy I at least got the chance to let them know that before they were gone.
I want to move on, I really do. Amidst the maelstrom of everything that's happened to me, and the deluge that still is happening to me, it just feels impossible that I ever could move on. I only just made my first resume last week for the first job I've every applied to, and it's at a retail store with nothing to do with what I studied in college. I want to make progress in life. I want to live. But I feel like I haven't had a life to live for so long now, and I just don't know what to do.
I'm sorry for the novel-length text dump of exposition and self-pity, I just didn't know what else to turn to.