Mother son stories

This is a spoiler for anyone who has not read the manga past the bonnie/kuma flashback on egg head.
I personally think after this flashback Kuma might just be #1 best dad in One Piece.
Obviously dad not meaning blood related as oda has made it constantly apparent that blood relations don't mean as much as real ties. Blood isnt thicker than water in One Piece.
Examples
Luffy sabo and ace being brothers while having non existent family or rejecting them like sabo did
Ace considering whitebeard as his father while rejecting Roger
Sanji and zeffs relationship after sanjis past and rejection by judge
Luffys relationship with Rayleigh and the absence of dragon,
Dadan being a mother to luffy and oda saying luffys mom isn't relevant to the story but dadan is obviously
Luffy punching garp in the face whose his blood related grandfather to save his sworn brother Ace
Everything to do with Bellemere, Nami and Nojiko. Especially the part when Nami says she isn't her real sister and she isn't her real mom. Then bellemeres sacrifice.
As far as I'm concerned kuma is #1 dad for what he did for Bonney and the only parent who has a spot in the arguement is Bellemere and Rouge.

For the context my boyfriend and i are i a relationship for 2 years and we rarely fight.
I (21y/o) female, boyfriend (24y/o) cheated on me on a party with the girl who invited us over. To make the story short me and my boyfriend attended a party organize by our new neighbor lets call her (Anitha). She and my boyfriend met 4 days ago and clicked as friend real quick Anitha invited my Boyfriend and i to her party at her house, my boyfriend arive earlier at Anithas party while I'm still at work. To make the story short i arive between 10pm at the party and found that my boyfriend is nowhere to be seen i ask one of our neighbors that i know, lets call her (Sally) and she pointed out the second flor of the house. As i was walking in the stairs i felt a tikling sensation that there's bad thing thats happening. Ff when i open the door knob, there i see my boyfriend having Inter****** with Anitha while moa**g my name. I sls Anithas face along with my boyfriend. My boyfriend said that he has been druged by Anitha thats why he had done that, but i still can't register his defense in my head (because how can he have been druged, when he sees me the druged has disappear like that?) Ff i broke up with him on the spot and leave him at the party and drive to my parents house. As the morning comes her parents keeps ringing my phone up and i decided to pick up the phone. His mother said that her son is in the hospital because of Hert attack and his son is demanding that i should go there because he needs me. For folish me i still want to know his being, so i get up and dress-up to go at the hospital and when he saw me his face lights up. he keeps begging and asking me if he and i would get back together. But i shut him up and said we would never gonna be together anymore and i would leave him and move to another estate. He keeps crying when i left him and his parents are worried (me to) because it will posibly affects his heart and recovery so AITAH?

When I was 18 years old, I met my future wife, Mia. She was the same age as me and we had recently graduated from the same high school.
Before meeting me, Mia had engaged in a lot of reckless sexual behavior. I would later learn that she was having sex when she was 13, had participated in group sex, and was extremely inconsistent about using protection. Mia's recklessness led to me, and our common poor decision making led to an unintended pregnancy. Mia ran to her parents, I ran to my parents, we all got together, and they agreed that we were either going to terminate or get married. We chose the latter.
Eight years later, Mia approached me wanting a divorce. I was honestly not surprised in the slightest. Getting married so early made us miss a lot of our early years, and while were always able to live together peacefully, we realized that we were a poor match in the first place.
It has been seven years since our divorce. Our son, Henry, is 14 years old now. We have an agreed custody agreement, and I think that despite our shortcomings as romantic partners, we have developed into competent and caring parents. One of our rules of shared custody is that when Henry misbehaves (which is very rare) and is being penalized for it, we both honor the agreement of his grounding.
On Wednesday evening, Mia texted me to say that Henry was grounded, but she would be dropping him off on Thursday morning. When I asked for details, she told me that she had caught him watching pornography. I thought that was a bit strict, but "watching pornography" can range from fairly normal teenage boy behavior to complete sexual deviancy. When asked for the details, she elaborated that he was on his computer in his room, and she entered without knocking to catch him.
Well, she dropped Henry off, and I had a talk with him. He was very apologetic. It was awkward, but I taught him two things: (1) sexuality is normal and nothing to be ashamed about. (2) porn is a terrible industry depicting highly non-normal acts, and often involves exploited parties. Henry understood this but told me that he was looking at images of an independent model.
I decided that Henry hadn't really done anything wrong at this point. I told him to be smart about his privacy, always respect boundaries, and never view that sort of material in public places. Then I un-grounded him, gave him access to his PS5, and let him enjoy himself.
Well, his mother logged onto her own PS5 during this time, and she saw Henry online. She called me yelling about the terms of his grounding, and from another room I told her that what he did wasn't really that bad. She then talked about the harmful effects of porn, to which I responded "At his age, you were having unprotected threesomes. Do you really want to shame him?" She got really flustered at that comment and eventually hung up on me. She has texted me intermittently about how wrong I was.
Was I the asshole for this?

I read this at least 12 years ago, I’m sure it is an older book though. The premise is these two brothers who defend the forest from barbarian or marauder hordes, but actually it’s just pretend from their treehouse. Their family owns a house with the land I think in h he English countryside, and the story is set during or around either world war 1 or 2 because I remember their iron fence being taken as scrap for the war effort.
The genre is just slice of life following the (I think) younger brother as he grows up. They go from boys to teens to men, other people come and stay with them on the property, at one point they hold a maypole festival in the woods and the main character embarrasses himself to the girl he likes. Later he finds that girl engaged in lovemaking with another teen staying with them, inside a hidden bunks in the forest, and he shuts the door somehow locking them in to die.
The story I think is somehow told by the main character who is now an old man, maybe telling it to a reporter or relative at some shop he goes to. The main character was given the family home to live in by his older brother, and I think is mentally unwell, his brother basically would make sure he had groceries and enough to live on. Even as an old man he thinks he has some duty to protect the forest that his brother has forgotten. The story ends with his brother’s son (his nephew) coming to tell him the brother has passed away, and the nephew now has ownership of the property, won’t be providing groceries for him anymore and wants him to clear out.
I read it when I was around 12-14 and the only reason my Mum picked it out was because the blurb sounds like a typical fantasy novel, barbarians and brothers defending a magic forest, but it turned out to be this really bleak and interesting slice of life non-fantasy. I have been trying to find this book for at least 10 years with 0 success, if anyone here knows I will lose my absolute mind.
I also think the title may have had the word Hollow in it, but I’m no longer sure because no book I’ve looked for with that matches

We've been low contact with MIL since I was pregnant with D for a number of reasons. She always plays the victim, and if you challenge her on anything, she acts like she doesn't understand, cries, or lashes out. There’s a history of this type of behavior with MIL where it feels like she is being covertly aggressive but always acts innocent and confused. We are in our hometown visiting for the weekend and are staying with my family which is always an issues with MIL, and she says we favor them, but we don't enjoy being in their house and feel uncomfortable. MIL invited us for dinner at 5 o'clock, the kids had loads of energy so we decided to go to the park first to let the kids run around and get their energy out. I texted MIL around 3:50 to let her know our plan. She immediately replied, asking when we would be there because BIL was anxious to see the kids.
When we arrived, things were okay. MIL was acting weird, wanting to show me various things and all the prizes she won from the casino and offering them as gifts.(she goes the casino every week and people who bet money get prizes for being a gold memory base on how much they spend) She barely tries to talk to her son my HB and instead after I have said, I need to sit down my allergies are really bothering me and I need to close my eyes. She insists on me following her around the house to show me all the things they have. We had supper, and then they MIL asks if she can give our D her gift since they won't be coming for her birthday. Even though we have invited them she says they won't be coming since my mother is going up. So they gave our D her birthday present: a hat, sunglasses, and a t-shirt size 7/8-year-old. We don't expect much from them anymore, they have stopped asking for gift ideas and now just get junky gifts like plastic toys that break shortly after or have nothing to do with the kids interest. I thought it was not a scant for a birthday present for your only granddaughter on her 5th birthday. But what really upset my HB and I is after they started taking all of BIL's toys out of his room and showing them to her. All of a sudden, you could see D look at her gift bag, and sadness washed over her. She said, not in a demanding way but confused, "I want another gift." MIL, clearly not understanding, offered her a cup you put boiled eggs in and then proceeded to walk D around the house, offering her random things. D started crying, and MIL came downstairs while FIL went to check on her. D said, "NO, I WANT MY MOM!" So I went up, and D could barely get the words out before bursting into tears, saying she wanted to go home and she was trembling. I picked her up and motioned to HB, who already felt off and not into the situation, and started taking D to get her shoes on. She just kept crying heavily, saying she wanted to go home. MIL came up to us, asking, "What's wrong, D? I am so sorry I don't have anything else for you." She kept going on, and I put my hand up and said, "MIL, it's not about a gift. It's about realizing someone hasn't thought of you beforehand. Your gift was okay, but then parading a bunch of toys around after you gave her a shirt and hat is insensitive." Then MIL disappeared and came out with a full art set. D was still in tears, pleading to leave. She took it in shock, and then MIL gave her a hug. I was standing there, completely confused. So now I am left feeling like a psychopath for wondering if they got her the art set and took it away out of spite because we didn't come to dinner early enough. When I mentioned this to HB, his immediate response was, "Well, at his birthday they said they didn't have money, didn’t give him a gift, and then got one for his brother and went on a trip right after." To add to the confusion, MIL had taken me upstairs earlier and showed me all the extra stuff she has—pillows, water bottles, mug sets. The art set was not there. So now I am wondering if I am overreacting to the situation.

I'm a caregiver to my mother who has short term memory issues. She's got a huge heart but isn't widely known for remembering things shall we say. I've got two dogs in the home, a Blue Heeler mutt that might have a bit of Chow-chow in him, and a Pit-Lab who is very protective of her property (read: her family's property) both rather young, I think the Pit is maybe 3 years old and the Heeler is 2 years old. The Heeler listens and obeys.. to a limited extent, he's got separation issues. The Pit rarely listens to anyone except me (Dad) and even then, to get her back inside, I have to go physically grab her collar or w/e and redirect her at times, depending on the people walking past (I unfortunately live in a shady area, some people seem to have a fascination with upsetting the dogs when they're chained to use the toilet - I wish I lived in an area with a fenced yard so they could run a bit more)
Grandma has mobility issues so she's unable to be physical with either one - the Heeler, not much of an issue but the Pit? She's another story. I'm usually at work when issues arise, so am unable to deal with them immediately, as one should with dogs. From what I've read, the Pit doesn't respect Grandma, unless the dog is in the right mood.
Any advice on how to get the Pit to listen when Grandma calls her back inside, or anything else? (Idk if this might help but the Pit seems to be kind of food motivated, although that isn't reliable)

Bud be gone 16 years later this month. Don’t hardly seem possible. Still remember him as if I just saw and spoke to him yesterday. The way of it. Miss him a lot, and so does Momma. Also the way of it. Get to thinking about him a lot this time each year.
Not as raw and brutal as it used to be. Had some dark days for both of us for quite a while. Again, the way of it. But acceptance comes eventually, when there’s no other choice.
I try to console myself that he lived life large in the 21 years he had - didn’t waste ‘em. Got to see and do places and things that comparatively few do. Was involved in things he felt were important.
I loved him dearly, and was admiring and proud of the man he’d become. And I told him so quite often. Advice from someone who’d not always as bright as he might be, but who nevertheless understands some basic things: say what Should be said when you have the chance. The words are important, even if they already know. Don’t, and the day might come when it’s now too late to.
He was the wild one of our brood - seems like every family has one. Not troublesome in any way for Momma and me. He asked me a serious question once, when he was 16: “Dad, you and Mom hardly ever whipped us when we were kids. How come?”
And my answer a simple one: “We didn’t need to. You were good kids.” He’d thought that over, and nodded his acceptance.
A disciplinary problem aboard his ship sometimes, though, and this didn’t surprise either of us. A different world with different rules. And he never accepted insult from anyone from the time he was small - just not in his nature. Push, and he’d push back.
But by every account we heard, very serious and disciplined when it came to his job. This didn’t surprise us, either. His primary rating Firefighter aboard ship, he’d often complain that the training wasn’t Realistic enough. To the extent that a superior had remarked once in exasperation: “Well, we can’t set the damn ship on fire for you, Bud!”
Well-known and liked throughout the crew, he was something of a minor legend among them. Famous (or infamous - take your pick) for the situations he got himself into to the point that after a while, anyone in trouble beyond the usual was referred to as having “Pulled a Bud.”
Fighting several members of Shore Patrol on one memorable occasion: “It took six of ‘em to get him under control and back to the ship, Mr. OP.” A friend.
With several members of the local PD on an even more memorable one, when he took offense at the treatment of a shipmate.
He’d paid for that one on the way to and at the station. Being thrown headlong down a set of cement stairs with his hands still cuffed behind his back he figured he’d had coming. Ditto with then being picked up and rammed headfirst into a cinder block wall.
Being stripped naked, tossed in a cell, and having a fire hose turned on him every hour on the hour all night he’d objected to: “That shit was Cold, Pop! And it was fucking unnecessary! I catch any of ‘em out alone, I got somethin’ for their ass!”
“You gotta stop this shit, Bud.”
“……Sigh…I know. Do me a favor - don’t tell Mom?”
“I don’t intend to.”
“……Pop?”
“Yeah?”
“Captain says the same thing. Says this is my last chance…….Why’s he giving me another chance, after all the trouble I’ve caused?”
“Because he sees something in you he wants to keep - something of value to the ship. You can be counted on to do your job, no matter what. That carries a lot of weight in the civilian world - more so in the military.”
“…..You think so?”
“I know so.”
One of the last conversations, and over the phone, we’d ever have.
An old Chief remarked to us: “Bud was a throwback. He reminded me of the fighting Sailors of my own youth. I hadn’t met another quite like him in a good many years. He’ll be missed.”
His Captain remarked to me: “He turned it around, Mr. OP. It was as if he made a decision. There wasn’t another single incident of insubordination or anything else. In all my years of service, I’ve never seen anyone do so complete a 180. He’d made his mind up, and that was that. But I guess I don’t have to tell you that. He was actually due for promotion. Did you know that?”
I had. Bud had told me he’d studied for and passed the test. Perfect score, or near enough. He’d broken his hand at the time. A timed test, and his writing hand, he’d been afraid the cast would slow him down too much, so he’d cut it off and gone to get it redone afterward.
Last time I spoke to him, he had some shipmates were in Galveston during Mardi Gras. Out on the promenade. Sounds of revelry in the background. Shakedown cruise in preparation for another deployment.
Presently, to his impatient shipmates: “Just give me a damn minute, all right?! Listen, I guess I better go. Love you, Pop. And tell Mom that for me when she gets home, ok?”
“I will. Love you, too, Bud.”
Good last words to remember, I guess.
All through the days and nights we’d spent in the hospital, waiting, and hoping against hope, Momma and I hadn’t been alone. My brothers were there with us, having driven in from out of state. My sister. Mother.
And his crew. Day and night, young men and women waiting with us in great numbers. Lying sleeping on the floor against the walls lining the corridors, when all other spaces had been taken. None of the hospital staff asking them to leave.
Ship’s Officers and senior Enlisted spending as much time there as presentations for deployment would permit. Checking in in person with us and hospital staff about his condition at least once a day.
And nearly all of them with a story or two to tell about Bud. Many of them funny. For that was who he was, too. He could always make people laugh. Someone being down in his presence he couldn’t abide, and he always knew how to fix that.
It was as if they Needed to. And that Momma and I understood, as well. We’d known him all his life, and we could see that they knew him, too. So we were patient, and we listened.
The day finally came when we were told there was no longer any hope at all. He’d never regained consciousness, and now there was no more brain activity at all. He was gone.
His XO was there with us when we were told, and that large, strong man wept bitterly and unashamedly. I think that probably doesn’t happen often.
Momma and I were alone the next day, in a seated waiting area next to the elevators. Waiting, just the two of us, not speaking much. Everyone had given us that space to ourselves. Sensed that we needed it, I suppose.
The first man arriving with a refrigerated transport case arrived, and took the elevator down. He seemed in a hurry. A man who desperately needed Bud’s strong heart was waiting, and time was of the essence.
Momma and I watched the doors close behind him. Then we both got up, and hand in hand, walked away. It was finished now. The book of his life was closed, though in a sense it never would be.
A few months previous, he’d registered as an organ donor. His choice.
His heart went to a 31-yr-old man in need of a new one.
A young woman in North Dakota sees through his eyes.
Many others were helped, as well. His parting gifts.
Talking to the coordinator of the donor program at the hospital at a later date, I was informed that the man’s new heart was functioning perfectly. He had, in fact, been going to the gym and hitting the weights. Something he’d had no interest in before.
“Lifting and bodybuilding were some of Bud’s passions” I replied.
“I’ve been doing this for a long time” the man had replied in kind. “And you’d be astonished at how many times something like that happens; the recipient unknowingly taking on attributes of the donor. No one can explain it.”

Hello everyone and welcome to week 21! We are almost halfway through the year. Hope you're having/had a sunny Sunday with lots of reading time!☀️
Finished last week:

• The Good Mother by Sue Miller
• The Stolen Child by Keith Donohue - another fantasy bingo prompt knocked out, this time for short stories.
• Tracking North by Kerry McGinnis - after a long hiatus! It's one of those books you can come back to any time, lol.

Starting or continuing this week:

• The Wager by David Grann for bookclub
• Eifelheim by Michael Flynn - honestly stalling on this one
• The Salt Grows Heavy - Cassandra Khaw - hoping to finish this one on my commute.
• Batavia by Peter Fitzsimmons - a truly shocking read, about a mutiny aboard a ship. The descriptions of life aboard ship are the stuff of nightmares, never mind what is sure to come afterwards.
• Denial by Deborah Lipstadt - about her trial against a Holocaust denier. Whilst it's an important book, I'm finding this one harder going than I thought. Legal trials aren't really my thing. More interesting is the systemic antisemitism that was rife in some of the UK's most renowned historical and scholarly circles, and the way the denier's blatant misrepresentations are accepted without so much as a by-your-leave by supposedly established authorities in the field of history, who are supposed to be critical and impartial. Irving's own misrepresentations, although blatantly false, provide much insight into his psychology. I don't want to call them "fascinating", since they are deeply dishonest and don't deserve the slightest credit, but they are certainly... illuminating, in a twisted sort of way.
• The Faery Reel, ed. Ellen Datlow, for fantasy bingo- not as uneven a collection as I typically find. A superb introduction too, which was unfortunately perhaps more to my taste than the stories themselves. I suspect a short story lover would find much to enjoy in this collection, but this one is well and truly out of my comfort zone.

Hello everyone this is my first post so I may be rambling a bit and also there might be here few mistakes in grammar
So I need some advice about how to deal with my father's decisions . My father M(47) has made a lot of depts from the bank as well as from family members and other relatives/friends. My father who grow up in poor family and who has very bad luck in business and office work my father had been accused of some very bad thing in the past because of that my father was not good for a lot of years even now he has not gotten the promotion he deserves or he should have . His college who started with him at the same time at the same company are where ahead of him and make almost 6 figures a year . Now from my childhood my family has never been poor or has never been in a type of situation where we might be a avictiated or have any problems with food, clothes. My mom who grow up in a very educational household by that I mean my grandfather was a principle of a school and had a very good reputation among our city. So obviously my mother side of the family is very well of their educationally well of as well. My father's side of the family was not well educated they had only gone up to the 8th or 12th grade my father is the only one who was very passionate about his education so he had to go through a lot to receive his education my grandfather did not support him neither it is sisters or brother he has six sisters and two brothers which and none of them supported him doing the hardest times of his life he worked hard to get everywhere he went he was a great father figure to me . Last year at march my father open a new business and was hoping to do well in his business but because of my father side of the family's greed he had suffered a lot of loss my father is a Banker so it was very tough for him to do both business and a job my mom was a great support for him but my father who had no supporters for most of his life I don't think he can trust anybody anymore not even me or my mom.me and my mom have a very close relationship we share everything with each other. My dad struggled a lot with his family my mom bought many lands from his family and helped my cousins rise up my mom and dad supported and basically raised my cousins for as long as I can remember Ever since I was two months old my cousin have lived with us for free my mom paid for the education and gave food like rice vegetables such other things for my dad side of the family to live but they where were Ungrateful till the very end they had accused my mum from stealing to not treating them right and every single thing they could accuse her of even though she she supported them for more than 20 years. Once I went to my youngest aunt's house they were talking about how my cousins were living at my house my youngest aunt started saying that her son and daughter can never visit their uncle's house because of how my mum treats them I was 13 at the time I set out loud what do you mean you never come to our house even when my dad was sick I had been in an accident you did not come to visit me once you said you were busy and I understood that that you could be busy about your life but how could you say that we do not treat you right when you don't even come to our house my aunt was very surprised and yelled at me for saying such stuff when I was so young that this is because my mother told me to tell everyone about this. And this was one of the many stories that I have about her bullying me and my mother she was the main leader of my father's side of the family my grandparents died when I was at least three or four years old I don't remember them much but from what I know or from what I remember they were not very kind people either my grandfather had burdened my mum with a lot of the things like cleaning his washroom and he would accuser that she was ugly and something like that as I do not remember much I cannot tell more about this sorry my mum and my dad forgave them every single time my cousins my aunts everyone bullied me and my mother and father recently my father's eldest brothers son he's also one of my eldest cousins called my mum to accuse my father of stealing from our land for context we own a lot of land in my father's home site and those were mostly sold to my mum by my father's second brother. And their farms in one way we were accused of stealing by eating our own planted weeds my grandfather's house which was very old was renewed by my mum as she had the money to do so but all the credit was taken by my oldest uncle and now his son was accusing us of stealing my mother became hysterical and started crying and start calling my dad she told him because of his wrong decisions because of his wrongdoings now we were suffering even though we were innocent we were never able to speak up about it not even now my mother's side of the family knows about this but they cannot do much because in our country it's never right to interfere between a in law's family.
So can someone give me advice about what I should do about this.

I just came across these myths, Maybe they can tell us something about Luffy, Dragon, Teach, Imu and the One Piece.
Rahu (my take is IMU):
The tales begin in the "remotest periods of the earliest of time, when the devas and asuras churned the ocean of milk to extract from it the amrita, the elixir of immortality." - Svarbhanu, an Asura (demon) deceived Vishnu’s female avatar Mohini, posing as a Deva(god) to steal the elixir of immortality. Displeased, Mohini cut Svarbhanu’s head. Svarbhanu was henceforth referred to as Rahu (head) and Ketu (body), could not die, but his head was separated from his body.
Following this event, Rahu (IMU) and Ketu (Five Elder planets representing his torso, both legs and arms) gained the status of planets, and could influence the lives of humans on Earth.
Rahu and Ketu became bitter enemies with Surya (Sun - Sun God Nika or Monkey D. Luffy) and Chandra (Moon - Marshall D. Teach) for exposing his deception and leading to his decapitation.
Hanuman (hindu deity that inspired Sun Wookong):
When Hanuman was an infant, he was once left unattended by his earthly mother and father. He became hungry, and when the Sun rose, he believed it to be a ripe fruit. So, Hanuman leapt up towards the Sun with extreme speed. Vayu (Wind God) his celestial father, blew cold wind on him to protect him from the burning Sun. Coincidentally, Rahu (Imu maybe) was meant to swallow the Sun (Eternal Flame?) and eclipse it that day. As Rahu approached the Sun, he saw Hanuman (Nika) about to eat it.
Hanuman saw Rahu and thought Rahu to be a fruit as well, so he attempted to eat him too. Rahu fled to the court of the king of the devas, Indra (Lightning God), and complained that while he was meant to satisfy his hunger with the Sun, there was now a bigger “Rahu” (gluton) who tried to consume the Sun and himself.
Indra set out on Airavata, his divine elephant (Zunesha?), to investigate alongside Rahu, who retreated once more when he saw how enormous Hanuman had grown. Hanuman was playing with the Sun's chariot and reached for Rahu again. As Rahu cried out to Indra for help, Hanuman saw the Airavata and mistook it for yet another fruit.
When he approached in his giant form, Indra struck his left jaw with a thunderbolt and injured him. Hanuman began falling back towards the Earth when he was caught by Vayu (Dragon).
Furious over his son's injury, Vayu withdrew all the air from the universe until all the devas, the asuras, and men began to suffer and suffocate. They appealed to Brahma (Marshall D. Teach), who revealed the cause of their distress and accompanied them to the wind god in order to appease him. Brahma revived Hanuman, and the other deities took turns bestowing different blessings, boons, and powers upon him.
Rahu (Imu) represents power through deception.
Surya (Sun or Nika) represents power through honesty.
Hanuman (Monkey D. Luffy) represents faith.
Brahma (Marshal D. Teach) is commonly depicted as a red or golden-complexioned bearded man with four heads and hands and belongs within a trio with Shiva (perhaps Dragon aswell) - Destruction and Vishnu (Shanks?) - Conservation. He is also the son of Chandra (Moon) and represents Creation.

I (29m) am adopted. I knew my bio mom's side of the family, but nothing about my bio dad. I have a few half-siblings on my bio mom's side, but the sister closest in age to me is suspected of having the same father as me. That is we don't know if she is full or half sister.
I recently got a match on ancestry of a 94% match of a half sister or 6% 1rst cousin on my dad's side. She says she knows who her father is but never met him. That being said I am told I look like him and there was a story where I was almost named the same name as him, but my aunt said no and changed it to my name is now. (Funny enough my aunt named me after her son.) So, I lean towards her being my half-sister on my father's side and father being correct.
So how do I bring up to my other sister who I have not seen in 15 years that I will be seeing next week that they should get a dna test because I might know who your father is and you might have another sister? Actually, more than an extra sister because my supossed bio dad has a daughter and son who happen to be the same age as me and my sister on my moms side.
A couple other complications are that my mom was a crack whore and did it throughout her pregnancies. Yet, my bio dad was in the lapd and I have no idea how else these two could have met. My bio mom was in her early 40s when she had me and my bio dad was somewhere in his 50s. So this raises a lot of questions. Also, there is a link with autism that I might need to bring with my sister as me and my new sister have it.
Also, do I ever try and contact my bio dad or his kids?
Needless to say I have no idea what to do.

To cut short a long story, hours ago, my darling and I got into an argument and he ended that argument with "We're done." before blocking me on two social media sites.
To add some context, we're in a long distance relationship and his mother (who he lives with, currently) suggested that I move down south with them. We've been in this relationship a little over three years (we've been friends a bit longer than that). I'm 27 and he's about 25.
I come here brokenhearted (and still alive). I truly love this man and I've never had a relationship before. I've loved my darling through everything. I and the Lord knows that I'll never love another man as much as I've loved this one and I know my darling loves me too.
I suppose what I'm asking is that the Lord saves our relationship and bring us back together. I also pray that my darling is alright and that he gets back to me soon. I also pray that no animosity happens betwixt him and his mother.
The gist of it is that I ask that y'all pray alongside me to heal and save my relationship. 😢 🙏 💔

For context I'm a 14 boy I live in a small town in Washington I have lived with my grandparents since 2010 8 weeks after I was born the contacts my mom was and dad were on illegal substances and so was and so is my dad okay so this story starts a couple months ago on friday march 15th my mom asked if I could be with her for the weekend my memaw and I said yes thinking this could be an opportunity for me to learn more about my mom and make her feel like an actual mother two days in on the last day march 17th I was waiting outside for my memaw to come and pick me up and then she arrived and then this is where the story really starts I go over to give my memaw a hug says hi I haven't seen her for 3 days my mom yells at me and says get back here you you have to wait for her to come over here there's a white line that you couldn't cross if you were a kid as an adult or if you were with an adult you could cross it kind of dumb in my opinion anyway so back to the story so I say but I want to go get my mama and then she starts yelling at me saying no you have to wait for her to come over here so then I just crossed the white line and I get my memaw a hug and then my mom starts screaming at me yelling and then I run behind my memaw's car which is a white Subaru 2023 model and then she says come over here as loud as she can and I go over there and then she tries to pin me to my memaw's car and then I fall and then she grabbed me and pins me again which is a bruise on my back and then after that she started she was pulling my hair after when the neighbors is calling the cops so then my mom says you can call all the freaking cops all you want he is my freaking child so then I run to my memaw and then she tells me again to the car so I do and then for like 2 minutes straight my mom starts lying to my memo like oh I was being so rude oh I was just pouting all the time I was 13 then I can tell that my memaw is getting angry so I go to them and tell them to stop talking and let's me and my email get into the car and then my mom has the she didn't have the audacity to say but then she said no you don't download so I was so confused at the time I was like wow really and then my memaw does little emotion like you know that thing that your parents sometimes do where they communicate to you to get into the car she did that after that I went into the car and then I waited and then as we're leaving the cops came and now my mom thought we had already gone to enough trouble with my mom so we just left and she was able to take pictures of me of where the bruises and the marks was cuz she slapped me across the face very hard and I didn't feel safe at my grandma's house after so am I the jerk for hateing my mom please let me know in the comments

My last flat was unbearable.
I mean, you try having a family of 11 live above you, when half of them are under the age of 8. Also try having a pair of raging alcoholic neighbours on either side of you. A pair who were once married to each other. My eyes rivalled that of pigeons’ due to no sleep.
I lasted a total of 21 days. I know, new record huh? I just about shoved the keys back in the grubby hands of my landlord when I finally saw the lunacy inscribed on his face. No wonder the rent was dirt cheap.
So I was back on the road, not on the streets though. Luckily enough I started questioning the flat by day 8, looked around for another place by day 15, and made a decision to get the hell out on day 18. 3 days of packing and it was bye-bye.
My new place seemed all the better too: yes, the rent was more expensive, and yes, it only has 2 bedrooms. But at least it was a house, one where pesky neighbours were at least 5 metres away. On my right, at least. On my left? Their house - thankfully - couldn’t even be seen where I stood.
Parking my car, I skipped up towards my new house with my fresh set of keys. And on entering? Silence. Perfect still silence. Thank the Lord. I basked in it for a while before returning to my car, unloading some of my baggage. It took 3-4 hauls, but I managed to fit it into one of the bedrooms. Thankfully, the rest of my things were to be brought by moving vans in about an hour.
I envisioned what the house could look like with a few finishing touches.
“But first…”
I eyed the 2 rooms. “Mine!”
The room I had chosen to be mine gave a bright view of my own smaller garden, as well as a portion of my right neighbour’s house, but that didn’t matter much. The view in the other room would suck: just my car and some reeds.
I was just about done heaving some of my baggage into my newly-chosen room when the doorbell gave an obnoxious ring. I stood, fighting the urge to just run away into one of my rooms when it beeped again.
Reaching the door, I eyed out of the peephole to see nothing but an opaque whiteness. I guess the downside in this house is that the last tenant was a slob. I eyed some of the yellowing walls. Sighing, I opened the door.
“Hello! We’re your neighbours, Jack and Sally, and we live just there,” She motioned towards my right, “We came to introduce ourselves, and to let you know that if you ever need anything, we’re right here.”
She then shoved a basket full of biscuits at my chest, a motherly-smile stretched around her lips. She turned to leave, husband - clearly forced to follow her - in tow, when she turned around.
“Your name, dear?”
“Leen!” I shouted after her.
“Perfect.”
And perfect it was, I thought. Neighbours that respect their distance from you, and give you food? I eyed the delicious snacks in front of me. Definitely an upgrade.
Though it was at dawn the very next day that I woke up, shook.
~
See, I was just sleeping in my newly delivered bed when I heard it. Something that sounded like a bird, a huge caw, before it alternated into different pitches. Disoriented, I tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes in order to focus better. But it just made me more confused.
It sounded like a chicken.
As far as I know, this new place was not the countryside, nor farmland. So what? And why?
I stepped up to my window to take a good look outside. I wouldn’t keep a rooster in my home that’s for sure. Whatever it was, it was coming from…
My jaw dropped.
I closed my eyes and scrubbed at them harshly.
Please tell me why I opened my eyes and saw the exact same thing.
A man, on his haunches, face pointed towards the sky, was making rooster noises.
And he was on my neighbours’ garden. The ones I met earlier.
He looked absolutely demented. I wasn’t even scared then, just flabbergasted. I wasted no time calling the police at this disturbing nuisance.
When they arrived though, I saw my neighbours’ shoot straight from their house, speaking or…was it pleading? With the officers. What on Earth..?
Anyway, it was their problem now, so I went back to bed. I had a whole bunch of chores the next day, and had to get it all sorted before I returned to work.
Shutting my eyes, I wished for peace. And quiet, thank you very much.
~
At last, I woke up at 10 AM. By 1 PM, I had sorted my clothing into its respective drawers, and had decorated my bedroom walls, including a new golden addition. And now? I had food cooking on the stove. It felt satisfying, having cleaned up and now awaiting the prize of food.
I scrolled on my phone as I waited for the pasta to cook, before another ding turned my attention towards the door.
“Huh, what now?”
Unfortunately I hadn’t cleaned the peephole yet, so I had to open the door. There stood Jack and Sally. Or Sally and Jack. Jack looked lost. Sally stared deep into my eyes.
“Was it you?”
“Me? What do you mean?”
“That called the police last night?”
I recalled the past night, and gave her a thumbs up, hoping my smile was reassuring. “Yep, don’t worry, that lunatic will not be coming back ever again. He can go to the zoo if he wants to squawk.”
I should’ve taken the cue from Jack’s paling face, but Sally grabbed hold of me. “Listen here, okay? That man, the one you called the police on...” She trembled, “He’s my son! You can’t do that! He was not even on your property!”
My eyes widened. “He’s…your son?”
“Of course! How can you not see that?”
Nodding at her, I relinquished myself from the hold she had on my arms. “Okay then, sorry for the call. But I do have to mention something,” Jack started to shake his head behind his wife, but I ignored the little-to-say man, “Is there any way you can keep the noise down to a minimum? Honestly, your son has vocal cords of steel! It would wake the entire neighbourhood at this rate.”
Sally stared pointedly at me, then took a look around my house. “Very well.”
She grabbed her husband’s arm as she turned to leave, and I caught the slightest look of fear in his eyes before he was abruptly pulled away.
I dismissed it - and the sinking feeling - on discovering my very soft, overcooked pasta when I came back into my home though.
I managed to also do one thing before wrapping up: I cleaned out my door's peephole. Now I wouldn't have to open the door to know it's them. I'd just speak at them from the inside if they were to come back.
~
I woke, jolting out of my bed the very next morning, or night. I checked my bedside clock to see it was 3:50 AM. The cock-a-doodle-doo was breaking into my head. I grasped my hair in frustration, knowing that I didn’t have the madman’s parents phone numbers’ to call, or maybe scream at them. It was the exact same thing as the day before! Except…maybe…
I strained my ear.
It sounded a lot closer.
My hands, for some reason, became clammy instantly, and the urgent thumping of my own heart - the fragility of my own life - became all the more prominent.
I tiptoed to my window and peeked outside. Nothing.
I then slowly treaded to my spare bedroom, and pulled the curtains apart. Zilch. Nada. Though…
Almost as if under a spell, my head turned towards my main door. I…I could somehow feel it. Just to confirm though, I peeked out of the door-hole.
And with a slam, I collapsed in my new, dream home.
~
When I came to, I was lying on white sheets, and a bright white light hung over me.
A hospital.
I was in my own room, which I found odd. It was not like I needed it. But then a doctor walked in, followed by 3 other people, and it all made sense. Everything - blurs and sureness - melted into a perfect picture.
Sally, Jack, and their son.
He couldn’t be more than 17 really. Though he looked 37 a few hours ago. Face pressed against the glass of my peephole, mouth wide open towards it, eyes pointing in different directions as his face reddened and contorted.
I was deaf in one moment. Then came the COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO.
Of course I fainted. Who could blame me?
“Good afternoon, I’m Dr Lam. You’re in A&E right now. Are you able to tell me your full name and date of birth?
My voice answered the Doctor’s questions, but my eyes stared dazed at the youngster’s abdomen, not daring to reach his its eyes.
“Well, nothing seems to be wrong with you. You may have just been dehydrated. Did you have any headache or pain before you fainted?”
I replied in the negative.
“Luckily, your friends’ son had found you passed out, and ensured your speedy arrival to hospital, so I wouldn’t be worried about any damage.”
My eyes finally strayed, looking towards the ground. I held the nauseousness of bile down my throat. Following a brief check-up, I was allowed to leave.
And 2 people and a demon followed me out.
“Well, Leen, that should give you a lesson,”
Sally.
I turned towards the family, who stood in a 3 person arc. Only 1 managed to look away, equal parts shame and guilt. I don’t need to mention who that was.
“Don’t worry. You can look at me, I don’t bite: not now and not at dawn,” a strained voice whispered at me. “I promise, it’s only at dawn when I…when I…”
“Hush Dean, don’t work your voice that much. You’ll need to save it for later.”
I was still dizzy. That didn’t stop me from running half-hobbled to the taxi stand, where I begged and claimed to many that I would provide double payment if they were to take me to my house.
It took a while, but I managed to pack some of my clothes. There was no way in hell I was sleeping at that damned house again, not now, not ever. I called and booked at a nearby hotel in the meantime.
I was done packing necessities by the evening. Walking out of my house, I saw no sign of those three. I would have been relieved, had I not come face to face with than one thing: standing in my garden, leaning against my car. My breathing picked up instantly.
Dean
It stood with its back resting against my car. And It noticed me immediately. Seems like it was just waiting for me to notice it.
“Are you leaving?” It sounded almost sad, but I needed it to move away, or my only way out of there would be in jeopardy.
“For the night.” My answer? Almost smooth, but even I could hear the first shake in my voice.
It nodded though. “Okay.” And he moved from my car. I counted the distance. 1 metre. 2. 2.5-
It made a sudden dash at me as I - in flight response - ran frantically to the driver’s seat, locking the door. I came in half-squashed, my backpack still on my back. But I didn’t care.
Its face was pressed against the window.
“Mum is waiting for a person that will like me for me, not run away. You’re supposed to like me.” It said, matter-of-factly. It then wailed, and sunk beneath the car window.
I did not dare to sit up and see what it was doing.
I didn’t even need to though. The sound came a split-second later.
COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO
Tears spilled from my eyes. My limbs felt weak. I couldn’t even breathe. It suddenly sprang up to the window. Eyes enlarged: looking at me and everywhere at once.
“I can actually tur-COCK- in the day too, but M-DOODLE- said it would be too much for you,” wheezing, it exclaimed again before adding, “but this is ME. Do you-do you, do you like me?”
With dead limbs I weighed my foot on the pedal, and jump-started the car to speed off. My head shook left-and-right in response, stomach heaving with nausea.
Human preservation kicked me into taking proper control of the car when I saw, out of the rear view mirror, Sally. This time with a rope, which locked around the creature’s neck before she tugged, drawing it into her house. At one point we locked eyes. And what do I mean by we?
Answer: the 2 of them and me.
It was honestly a miracle that I did not get into a road traffic accident.
I spent 3 days living in the hotel after that, my job long-forgotten in the aftermath.
By day 4 I broke down and called my older sister, asking to stay at her place for a while. Her house and area seemed fine the times I’d stopped over. I guess I clearly did not seem right though, as she many-a-time asked me what was wrong. My answer? Stress. She persisted, years of living together as kids helping her figure out my lies, though she ultimately gave up after a week. She knew it was something I didn’t want to share, and that I was safe now. That was enough for her.
For me? I guess at the time I so badly wanted to tell someone. Though it couldn’t be my sister. I didn’t want to cause any trouble. Nor see if she’d even believe me, or instead rank me at the same IQ level as her two 5-year-olds.
For a few weeks, I stayed with my sister and her family, reassuring both her and myself that I was fine. Thankfully, we worked together to find a small apartment. Next to a kids school too - bonus points. I now craved safety above all else. After moving out though, I realised I needed my belongings back.
So, who picked up my stuff from that cursed residence, you ask? The moving people. I called the police from a random phone booth first to head over to that area, emphasising on seeing some suspicious looking men, whilst I got them to collect everything. I did not dare to call the police on that family though. I would prefer if the link between me and them got cut, drawn and quartered.
So now I’m here, in an apartment which thankfully hasn’t shown any sign of insanity. Inspecting my belongings, I noticed that there was one thing missing.
My gold frame, used to encase my make-shift certificate - made by yours truly after her 21-day record from the previous apartment - was gone.
I felt somewhat miffed, but then I realised something.
Something which can maybe bring the light out in this whole situation.
I counted carefully. I broke my record.
With a grand stay of 2 days. Now that - that I don’t think I’d ever be able to beat.

My husband and I started dating during Covid. We are both gamers, and had met through my brother who is a long time friend of his. They met once before.
My attraction was his voice, his personality and eventually finding out he was very handsome didn’t hurt either. We connected right away and fell in love. A year and a bit of disappointment, the border finally opened and we met in person.
The chemistry has been undeniably strong. He fell hard and so did I. I began to get excited at the idea of marrying him. Starting a life together. The works!
I visited him afterwards and met his family. He lives at home as he’s saving money and helps his mom a lot around the house and overall. She’s older (65+) and needs help a lot. She’s energetic and light hearted but also has a wicked streak.
I never anticipated this. When I met she was super sweet. It was his sister that gave me a hard time at first, which was difficult but I persevered regardless. His mother started as supportive, but as soon as I started discussing future plans, everything began to change.
Suddenly I was rushing things, my husband, life , etc. I was 25 when we dated and he was 23. We were younger but not THAT young. We both eagerly discussed marriage since week 2 of dating. We dated a year and a bit when I first met his family.
Every conversation with his sister or mom during the first year or two of dating revolved around my lack of education. They’re a degree family (teachers at a elementary school and pre-K) and looked down on me because I didn’t have one, so I decided to open up about my trauma and childhood to help them understand why I’m where I’m at in life, and that it’s actually way better than I could ever imagine.
I have my own place. I make good money at a corporate job I’ve been at for several years, and I travel frequently. I have a full life of friends and family of my own. I don’t talk to my mom because she was physically abusive until I was 17 and worse. His mom knows this.
I explained that we need a marriage based visa approval before I can legally move to his country (USA) from mine (Canada). Student visa is pricey and not ideal for future plans. I went through the process and it all over 20 times in length. Trying to get everyone to understand it was the best option to get married. They fought it HARD. I cried so much, so many times.
I had no idea why they were soiling on our goals and on me. My husband was so excited to get married, he knew what we needed to do. They actively tried to convince him not to do it but then helped him plan my engagement decorations and cake. His sister was annoyed by this, since it was hard to watch her younger brother grow up and as her own marriage was rocky at the time.
After we got married his mom started making comments only to me about how we have to “wait and see how it all goes after a year” implying we wouldn’t last that long. She constantly says stuff like this. Especially when we’re alone in the kitchen having what I thought was an open conversation.
She’s accused me of marrying him for a green card, of trying to rush our marriage to have babies, and trap him.
I have explained countless times my plan and our plan to wait for kids. Yes I’m older than him but we have goals before kids come that we want to achieve. Pair her general comments with her mean remarks whenever we mention future kids, and I just see someone trying to tear me down.
The worst thing she said is that she thinks if I got pregnant and my relationship with him fails, that I’ll “take the baby to Canada”. And that if things don’t work out before kids, I’ll be alone out here. Yeah.
Despite all this, I have always helped her and been nice. Even too nice.
Today was the straw that broke my camels proverbial back. I had helped her while she was really sick with what we found out to be COVID, for 2 weeks while I am visiting my husband before we fly away for our 1 year Anniversary trip. I made her home made soup, I cleaned her house, I checked on her. I made a custom recipe book for my Mother’s Day gift to her. I got her whole family to sign it after.
We haven’t celebrated due to her being sick. We were supposed today. My husband and I came back from a day out and she starts ranting about our sex life to him, and I am overhearing this from his room. She was talking about it in the open dining room randomly.
I had a private talk with her when she was at the end of her sickness, as my husband and I had some tense talks and I wanted to get insight. I had mentioned in passing that my iud strings were cut during a precancer cell removal surgery. That I was being careful but still worry for us sometimes, but that I’m taking precautions.
She didn’t say much besides “ oh that’s good! I’m glad to hear that”. Then she brings it up today, 4 days later. In front of my husband who in already discussed this with. She’s lying and saying I sounded unsure and scared, that we’re being careless and that she’s praying we don’t get pregnant. She tells him he should take mint pills, get a temporary vasectomy, and that I should get checked / scanned. That she doesn’t know if we’re compatible if we have tense talks lately and we may find out after living together FT. She said she wishes she could twist his balls, that she had a nightmare I got pregnant and “someone got hurt” but didn’t elaborate so as not to “call it into existence “ We’re just standing there stunned. She plays it off like she cares, but she’s just being so negative.
I levelled with her, assuring her I would take precautions once again. That her concern is real. Well shortly after we went to his room feeling good about hearing her out while talking. But then I hear his mom gossiping to his older sister. She barely looked at me after when I walked in. She was noticeably cold to me.
His mom was syrupy sweet to me. Saying we (her son and i) should go on a walk to enjoy the sunnny day! I cried the whole time asking him why she’s so mean, why she can’t trust us to be adults.
I cried so hard I skipped lunch and dinner, I had an anxiety attack. I couldn’t breathe, I’m disbelief at what I saw and heard today. It’s like nothing I did in the past 4 years and 1 year of marriage almost, mattered to her or made any impact.
My husband went up and talked to her, for a long time. He came down and spoke on her behalf, detailing how concerned she was for me and my health “stuff” and that it holds heavy on her heart. She doesn’t want us to go through worse (baby is worse?) and wanted to get her point across. That she loves me and accepts me as her own.
Well after I stopped sobbing, I texted her saying I was sorry for today and why stress I caused her with my words.
She texts back giving me shit for not “coming to her directly” as she felt it was important i hear what she said to her son too. That if she didn’t care she wouldn’t bring it up to us. That we will figure it out as we’re adults. Night night with heart emoji.
I texted back a big paragraph (like this post) reminding her that she wasn’t direct with me as she was talking to my husband about making sure I was on birth control, insinuating I’m lying about my IUD being effective. If I didn’t walk in the chat never would have happened. That she can’t expect me to come upstairs and hash it out if I’m so upset I can’t stop crying. That it’s unfair to put that on me after i was the bigger person and apologized to her tonight. She never said sorry to me directly.
My poor husband is in the middle, especially as he’s the youngest (27). I told him it’s time to move out and detach from the emotionally toxic relationship with his mom. He agrees.
He’s tried to leave a few times but she guilts him into staying. Today was the first day he saw her true colours towards me, he hated it!
Any support is appreciated and advice is valued!
TLDR; MIL chastised us about our private issues like sex

Is it true that narcissist creates a narcissist. We are a sibling of 5. I'm the youngest and only son. I grew up in domestic violence, sibling loud fights initiated by my mother but was hell. Hell it was. I'm a self aware narcissist but none of my siblings are. What should I do?

I had never even heard of it before, I just randomly picked it up at the library. It's not as famous of a teen book here in Brazil as it is in the US. I had never read anything by the author before.
It's one of those books where what is good about it is very good, so much you kind of brush past the bad. I enjoyed following the kids in their day to day lives in the attic, the way Chris and Cathy slowly become the real parents of the twins, the way they try to make life less horrible by reading and making art with them, and try to hold on to the hope their mother still cares about them. I hated the grandma character the moment I saw her; she hits very close to home for anyone with ultra-conservative religious family. The punishments she inflicted on them, the pain of starvation, the sinking feeling the mother just does not care anymore, all of that was well-executed in my opinion. I saw the grandpa ending twist coming hundreds of pages earlier, but it still hurt to read
It could have been so good, man. Why, just why did she have to make Chris and Cathy fall in love?
I really wish the book had not dwelled so much on it. Even as an only child who doesn't know first hand how siblings feel about each other, it was still enough to make me very, very uncomfortable. Cathy describes Chris in such weird terms, talking about how handsome and strong he is, how he was beginning to look "like a man" and she was attracted to "the thing between his thighs"... yeah. I don't think that's how sisters describe their older brothers. I was trying to be generous and play psychologist while reading, thinking that maybe locking up growing teens for three years might screw up their minds in this way, especially because they didn't really get any proper sex-ed. For a good portion of the book, I was able to brush it off as yet another injury to their mental health, not just a thinly-veiled fetish of Andrews (which it clearly is).
But I'm pretty sure none of it makes you rape your sister and finish inside of her. And Cathy BLAMED HERSELF for it too, saying she shouldn't have worn see-through pajamas close to him when she "knew he had needs".
Just... no. It's the 50s, of course she would think that... but nothing in the narration or the overall meta of the story does anything to indicate Cathy is wrong here.
Dialogue was also a weak point. I've been reading a lot of older books, so I'm growing more tolerant to unrealistic and flowery dialogue, but it feels weird in the mouth a 12-year-old. I found the prose itself easy to follow and even pretty and inspiring in some points, but none of the siblings speak like kids their age.
Overall, I liked some aspects of the book a lot and I'm sad I can't really recommend it because of the ick factor of it all. It could have been so much better had the siblings just had a normal freaking relationship. Godamnit, what's with YA authors and incest?

So my son has just turned 2. I've been advised by so many people (domestic abuse services, police, children's centre) not to allow unsupervised contact between my son and his narcissist father. I finally followed their advice 3 months ago and stopped the contact. I believed I was doing the right thing protecting my son from him but now he keeps asking to see his dad and I feel awful. I grew up with a narcisstic mother living with her full time and it damaged me beyond belief. I don't want that for my child but I'm wondering if maybe he just sees his dad 1 day a week it will be less damaging than not having a father at all, plus when he did havs contact he always returned our son long before he had to. The other thing is that if his father does decide to go to court for visitation (its highly unlikely this man will ever give up) he may end up with even more contact than just once a week. To anyone reading this not from the UK, this country prioritises parent and child contact even in the face of evidence from police and DV services. It's hard because my child is so young and he can't really say or understand if he is being abused. I suspect he gets treated like a golden child as he's so young and is an unlimited source of validation and supply for his ndad. I feel like the best option would be professionally supervised contact but it's hard to go about making this actually happen. Did anyone else grow up in this situation of having an n parent but only seeing them at weekends ? What was your experience ?

Long story short, my mother (47) is wrathful and narcissistic. Because of this, I've (23F) been heavily depressed since I was 12. I've spent my teenage years and my early 20's walking on eggshells trying my best to please her and to not incur her wrath, but nothing is working. I thought that after my sister took her own life last year was going to change her, but it didn't change her one bit.
I'm trying to not violate the rules of this subreddit, so I want to get straight to the point. The only "good" thing my mother has ever done for me is building my credit score. I say "good" because she really only did it because her score is BAD, so it's in her best interest to keep mines up so she can keep opening credit cards and taking out loans in my name. I was a fresh start for her. Helping me was just a side effect. My credit score is ~ 800.
I want to take advantage of this. My mental health for half of my life so far has been poor. I'm depressed, anxious, I don't take care of myself, and I've been morbidly obese for my whole life because of all of her. These things have made me dependant on her. I want to live a normal life. I don't want to be 300+ pounds anymore. I've never been in a relationship or even had my first kiss. I want to love and be loved. I don't want to live in fear and be in survival mode anymore. But those things are impossible as long as I am living with her.
My plan is to take out a large loan and find a cheap apartment just for one year so I can work on myself. The apartment can literally be a closet. I don't care. And I'm willing to go into debt and tank my credit to make this happen. But I am not as smart as she is. I think if I do anything, my mom will know. So is there a way I can get a large loan quickly so I can be out the door never to see her again? I would also like to kick her off my credit one day, but I don't know how to do that either. Any advice helps, thank you all.

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