I always dream the wildest shit during naps and I hate it. They’re vivid and absurd. In just 3 hours I dreamt that I had a tiny hole in my apartment wall that leads to an attic, that someone could unlock my door electronically from the outside, that I was flirting with my orthodontist, that an elevator crashed while I was inside, that my boyfriend undressed in front of everyone while drunk, that someone who was drunk at a party called my nose huge and that’s the reason they need to go home now (verbatim: „Your nose is huge, I think I need to go home now because of it.“) and that my mom waited outside to tell me that my brother died of alcoholism.
The last one woke me up now and I have a stiff neck from napping on the couch.

TW for sexual, physical, medical, emotional, and religious abuse, childhood sa, suicidal ideation, and self harm
This past week has been incredibly difficult so I decided it would be good for me to write a letter to my mom to keep for myself during my healing process to get everything out and it's been very cathartic (all fake names used). Part of my healing journey has been sharing my (extremely personal) experience with others who understand, hence why I'm sharing this here, and maybe it'll give someone some strength knowing that I made it out. I hope everyone is kind to themselves this week and was able to treat this holiday as a holiday for themselves for surviving their abusive moms!
Dear mom, Happy belated Mother’s Day. My Mother’s Day was spent being upset and anxious so I decided to write this letter. This letter is so incredibly difficult to write and even more difficult to read back to myself. Moving away from my university and back home during COVID was genuinely one of the most difficult things I have done in my life simply because of all of the repressed memories that flooded back into my brain every single day I was in that house. I used to resent the pandemic for forcing me to live in an environment that made me want to harm myself every single day and die every other day, but I am now thankful for the clarity that it brought me as I don’t think I’d have the foresight that I have now.
There is a lot that I want to say. I am angry, bitter, resentful, and traumatized from things that you have done to me as a child and also as an adult. Growing up, you’re never able to fully recognize what is healthy because whatever you experience will be your barometer for normalcy. I thought for a very long time that thing were normal but thank God I now know just how truly fucked up so many of my childhood experiences were. Not a single day goes by where I don’t think about the emotional, physical, and sexual abuse that I went through. I am haunted every single day by things that you did (and some things that you didn’t do) and hope that one day I will be able to heal from what I experienced.
I grew up being close to my cousin Chloe (a year younger than me) who was obviously very bitchy, mean, and abusive. This fact isn’t something you weren’t aware of as I know a fully grown adult would be able to see how she treated and talked to me when around you and come to the obvious conclusion that I should not have been allowed to be around her. She bullied me, called me names, physically assaulted me by pushing me, pulling my hair, and sitting on me with my hands held behind my back until I couldn’t breathe, forced me to bathe in scolding hot bath water that would burn my skin, making me undress and make fun of parts of my body, and forced me to watch things that she knew would scare me. This is the same time that I started having insomnia and struggled in school due to anxiety. It’s also the same time I remember my sound sensitivity starting. Do you remember my childhood friend’s mom Amelia and how protective she was over my friend, Diana? Diana met Chloe at my 9th birthday party and Diana went over to her house for a playdate and Chloe did something to her. She physically reached over and groped Diana on the privates. I knew Amelia IMMEDIATELY prevented her daughter from ever being around Chloe again. I also knew that it's possible she mentioned this to my aunt, but I'm not positive. I know that Amelia is the type of mom to prevent Diana from reading Harry Potter because she thought it was a bad influence on her due to being “demonic”, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she made you aware of what Chloe did to Diana as she knew that I spent a lot of time around her. I doubt that what Chloe did to Diana was ever kept a secret from you. Chloe also forced me to do sexual things I didn’t want to do from roughly the ages of 8-11. One time, we were in her kitchen and she pulled out a knife and said that she was going to stab me. By then, I knew she just wanted to scare me so when I had no reaction, she put the knife away. I was terrified of what would happen if I said no to her so I went along with whatever she wanted. She would go into the bathroom and tell me to follow, would lock the door, and make me take off my clothes and let her do things to me and forced me to do the same things to her. I used to think that you had NO IDEA about this until I remember you saying the words- “you were an amazing kid and never had any problems until you got a little older. I always wondered if something happened.” Who the fuck says that to their kid? Yeah, something did happen and it wouldn’t have happened if you protected me!!!! You fucking idiot!!!! I remember being in our new house and taking a shower with you when I was about 8 (which was VERY inappropriate and should NEVER have happened at all) and saying something that clearly made you uncomfortable. I remember the exact face you made and know that any normal, healthy adult would have done something about it and made sure nothing was happening. They would have made sure I was SAFE, and talked to me about safety, but nothing was said or done. You have failed me many times, but this one is the most painful. Not only will you need to live with the fact that you knew about my abuse and did nothing, but I will have to live with the fact that my mom knew "something happened” and didn’t care about me enough to protect me. I look at my beautiful niece Hallie, and imagine not protecting her like that and want to vomit. I cannot fathom how a mother would have the thought “I wonder if something happened to my daughter to case a massive behavioral change” and NOT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT! You didn’t talk to me, never asked me if Chloe was doing anything, or anything at all. If I even had a minor suspicion that something was happening to Hallie, I would IMMEDIATELY do something about it because THAT IS MY JOB as an adult in her life. You failed me and deserve to know that this traumatized me and gave me PTSD. I am NOT autistic, no matter how much you WANT me to be so you can go around and gain sympathy for “having an autistic daughter” rather than owning up to the fact that you caused what “went wrong” with me.
Not only did you not help prevent me from being molested by my cousin, you also added to my sexual trauma by forcing me to use the giant egg monistat insert to treat a yeast infection when I was 11. I was ELEVEN and you had a bright idea to force a HUGE foreign object into my prepubescent body even though you were fully aware I could have easily gotten a prescription for a pill to swallow from a doctor. I was scared. I had so much pain and itching and needed a mother to hug me, tell me it’s going to be okay, or at the very least, EXPLAIN what I had and how we were going to fix it. You didn’t do any of that. You told me to lay down and proceeded to try and administer medication that is NOT meant for children 12 and under due to the physical damage it could cause. I was clearly in pain and scared, but you kept trying anyways. At any point, you could have stopped and taken me to the fucking doctor, but nope. You then got frustrated that “you couldn’t get it in” and told your 11 year old daughter to shove it inside herself. Then you left the room. I hadn’t even had a period yet, let alone know where my vagina was but you sure felt the need to yet again abandon your parental responsibilities and place them onto your kid! Miraculously, I put it in and wobbled out to lay on the couch because I was in physical pain from BOTH the infection and YOU, but because a child’s body isn’t able to properly fully insert the medication used (which once again I’ll remind you is meant for girls 13 and up), it came out and got on the couch because you didn’t give me a pad. And rather than prioritize your own daughter’s health, safety, wellbeing, and comfort, you were more upset about the stain on the couch and yelled at me. I will never forget in all of the years that I am alive how ashamed and disgusted I felt standing behind you watching you furiously scrub at the stain that I caused (actually, that YOU caused since this never should have happened in the first place!) and feeling a huge flood of guilt every time I saw that couch stain. One of the best days of my life was when we got a new couch and I never had to see that stain again.
All of this caused me to develop anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts and ideation, self harming behaviors, having out of body experiences where I dissociate, and panic attacks amongst other things. YOU caused ALL of this and you fought tooth and nail to convince me that it was MY fault for being broken. “There’s something going on with you,” and you made it your mission to never take any responsibility for any of the trauma that you caused. Not only did you ignore all signs of abuse and sexually assault me yourself, you bullied and helped a family friend Sharon bully me when I was “being mean” to (her daughter) Faith. I was treated like I was a mentally ill monster who couldn’t be trusted and always got in trouble whenever Faith shed a single tear because I was “mean to her”. Faith cried at LEAST 15x a day, and I was blamed every time she decided to say I was the reason. You allowed a monster (Sharon) to ABUSE me and had the incredibly wise idea to start passing along what shit talking you two would say about me TO ME, a 13 year old girl. I was THIRTEEN. I was A CHILD. And yet, you came crying and complaining to me about how tired you were of hearing Sharon say I was being mean to her daughter when you could have TOLD THE OTHER ADULT IN THE SITUATION TO STOP. It never was my responsibility as a child to try and make another adult stop abusing me by “behaving better.” There was nothing wrong with how I was behaving. You never once tried to help me, you always blamed anybody and everybody else for your failures. I would come and ask you for help when I was struggling and if you didn’t care, you would pawn it off to somebody else- “go talk to your older sister” “talk to your therapist about that” “I don’t know what to say except to tell you to pray about it” and when I came back saying praying didn’t magically fix my depression, you told me to pray harder. I guess you really thought it was a skill issue rather than a diagnosable health condition! No wonder I wanted to die! Hahaha! I’ll never forget the look of disgust on your face when I was sobbing hysterically and struggling to get out the words when I told you just how badly I was affected by Sharon and said how you played a role in helping her harm and abuse me. “WELL. I’m SORRY if you think I didn’t protect you enough. I know what that feels like because my parent’s took my sister’s side a few weeks ago when we were having an argument” (as FULLY GROWN 50+ YEAR OLDS arguing and bitching LIKE CHILDREN!) No, mom, it’s not the same. I was a child and not only did you not stop an abuser from harming me, you joined in. You allowed her access to me and you passed along what horrible things she said was wrong with me. “SHARON said she thinks YOU’RE BIPOLAR. Do you think you are?” “Sharon told me that you’re having AN EPISODE and are being mean to Faith! Show me your phone!” “Well, I just don’t understand why you keep bringing this up when it happened so long ago. I just hope you can forgive her and move on.” You’re fucking disgusting. Should I go into detail about how many times I asked you to not interact with Sharon more than you needed to and you proceeded to try and force her into my life more? You KNEW how uncomfortable I was with you attending Faith’s wedding and yet, you cared more about how you looked and not only attended, but hosted both her wedding and wedding showers. I have always wondered why you never cared how I feel until I realized that you prioritize yourself and how you look to other people above anything and everyone. There is a clear pattern of behavior-

• When I was 17 and you were painting my fingernails and berating me for wanting to visit my friend up in Boston to see a concert together because “you just didn’t understand why I’d want to do that” and I started crying. You rolled your eyes and said “you better leave now if you don’t want my next client to see you crying because her appointment is in a few minutes.” You cared more about having your random client seeing me cry and potentially thinking you’re a bad mom than comforting me.
• When I was 13 and we were saying our nightly prayer the night that I had my “therapy appointment” (aka, you and my “therapist” chastising me for writing in my diary that I was having suicidal thoughts), when you were praying you said “Dear God, please help (my name)… and… pLEASE HELP ME!!!!” Clearly, YOU were affected more than I was even though I was the one wanting to die because of you. Wow. Your life is so hard!
• Telling everyone around you that I “have problems” and am “really struggling” so you can gain an ounce of sympathy. The way that your friends come up and talk to me is baffling. They treat me like I just got home from the psychiatric hospital.
• Laughing about me with my friends in high school when I was out of the room- “hahaha my daughter is sooooo weird hahaha”
• When I was 18 and you called my “therapist” (who did NOT get my consent before doing this and violated her ethical guidelines) after I moved out and stopped talking to you, you got her to help you write a list of “rules” to force me to stay in contact with you. They consisted of requiring me to “talk to you, dad, or my sister at least 1x/day” so you “knew that I was safe” aka, you wanted to control me even though I was an adult and not living in your house. I was perfectly safe, and yet you made me sound like I was doing drug deals in the morning, prostituting myself after lunch, and had plans to commit felonies later that night. I went to school, ate, and went back to my apartment. You had no right manipulating me into talking to you by using my therapist, dad, and sister against me. Pathetic.
• Telling me to go do my runs on a strange man’s property instead of the road because it’s “safer.” Dad said that this man who I’VE NEVER MET told him that “there are bad people out there who will kidnap her and do horrible things to her, SO INSTEAD she should run on MY property!” Not sketchy or rapey at all, right? And completely dismissing me when I said that made me uncomfortable by saying “my dad knows him”? Lady, do you know any rape statistics? Clearly not, because you’d then know that only 7% of assaults are strangers while 93% are family members or acquaintances. NINETY THREE PERCENT. The amount of times that I’ve mentioned someone made me uncomfortable or had a massive affect on me as a child and you’ve replied with “Oh, well did they touch you?” People don’t have to touch me to traumatize me. You’re pathetic for thinking that.

I’m not mad at Chloe. I don’t feel any anger or ill will towards her at all. She was a child just like I was a child. She was failed more than I was failed. No child acts that way and assaults other children without learning that from somewhere. I blame her parents for what happened to her. I blame YOU for what happened to me. I vividly remember things that my aunt would say the same time this was happening about little girls and their bodies and I want to smash my head against the wall. Children are to be protected above anything and everything else, by you didn’t. Do I hate Faith and think that she’s a bad person because of what happened when we were 13? No. I fully blame you and Sharon. The amount of adults that have failed me in my life keep me up at night. I think about how different my life would be had dad been more involved and seen what was going on and taken me away from you. I am angry with him for that. I dream one day I will be able to sit down with him and tell him everything I have written about and he will hug me, support me, cry with me, and apologize for not being there more to protect me. But who knows, he might defend his child abusing, mentally ill wife and say I’m making up everything. Who knows.
Do you want to know what my sister said when I told her all of this? She apologized to me for not being 15 years older than I am so she could have raised me instead. I want you to sit here and think about how fucked up that is. My own sister wishes she could have taken me away from you so you couldn’t have abused me. I imagine the pressure she must have felt having to grow up while also raising her mother and sister and I sob for her. I’ve sobbed for me for the mental anguish and torture I experienced at your hands. I’ve even sobbed for you because I can’t imagine being even a fraction of how fucked up you are to resort to abusing and neglecting your child- a child you begged to have. A child you had trouble having and prayed for. Embarrassing.
I’m never going to have a relationship with you again. If God is willing, I will never have to interact with you ever again. Saying that phrase “if God is willing” is ironic because you forcing me to pray my problems away rather than helping me led me to not believe in him. How can I believe in something that also neglected me? I’d sit in my dark bedroom night after night praying and sobbing for him to help me. I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I felt broken and alone. I now know that I was a child praying for God to take away my PTSD, and that is not possible. My heart breaks for that child.
You’re a pathetic excuse for a mother and human being. I’m truly shocked that I survived you and your abuse. I’m surprised that I didn’t ever try to kill myself to try and get away from you because you’re a vulture that prays on innocent people. The only important people in your life are people you think will give you something or will make you look good. That’s why you refused to ever cut ties with Sharon, you knew she was sexually abused as a child and you couldn’t POSSIBLY NOT be her friend because you need her to be your “friend,” or rather, your token sexually abused as a child friend. I genuinely hope that you get better and become a normal healthy person but I won’t ever be around to see it. I hope you feel even a fraction of the pain and abandonment that I have felt my entire life. Happy Mother’s Day, but today isn’t Mother’s Day for me, it’s Daughter’s Day. Moving far away from you one month ago has truly saved my life. Instead of trying to survive, I am enjoying my life. I would have died in that house. I get to finally celebrate being away from you and celebrate myself for staying strong and fighting when I could have easily given up. You once told me “you feel like I HATE you!” to guilt me into fawning over you and telling you how much I loved you, but now you get the opposite. I DO hate you and hate how you have permanently changed me and I wish to never see you again. Instead of praying for the “God forsaken, atheist, lost, evil, liar, miserable, spiteful, hateful, disgusting, mentally ill, “autistic” daughter, pray for yourself. Pray for God’s forgiveness for emotionally, medically, physically, sexually, and religiously abusing and neglecting me. You deserve to remain in your "clueless" state of "having NO IDEA what you did wrong to make her stop talking to me!" for the rest of your life.Happy Daughter’s Day.

Backstory, I let this random stranger move in with me with no lease just a verbal agreement under the table. He has a 4 year old daughter and a junkie baby momma/healthcare worker. He is a ex drug addict, admitted to me that he was addicted to fent. Over a year ago I used to sell small amounts of weed. He asked me for cocaine verbally his first week here in my apartment. About a year ago, he allowed me to sell his baby momma a 8th of mushrooms. I got a full time job and stopped selling weed and other drugs last summer, since then I have been getting clean money working a very dirty job changing oil. I was more like a middle man than a actual drug dealer. My roommate and I are not on good terms anymore. I took him to court for a 50b restraining order because he got violent with me over some dirty dishes and messed my wrist up smacking dish soap out of my hand. I lost in court because he claimed he stood his own ground in front of his daughter. Mind you I am a black male from NC and he is a white man from Florida. He has refused to pay rent the past two months. After I lost in court, I went to the leasing office and told them that he was living in my unit for over a year. The apartment complex told me I can't move out until he is gone. They also told me that because I am a good tenant and I pay the rent that they will not evict me. They only asked that I give them a good Google review. The leasing office told me to tell him that they know he's there and lie that they are going to kick us both out. They basically told me to try and scare him to get him to leave. I gave him a 10 day notice to pay or leave and I have also given him a 7 day notice from the day rent is due that his lease/verbal agreement through me is being terminated. He has been on a month-to-month lease through myself.
I don't want to sue him, I am simply trying to get him to leave before the eviction process starts. Legally, he has claimed residency at my home. He keeps telling me that I'm about to get locked up. He claims I stole money from him. We have been splitting the electric bill. During the months of December, January, and February he did not pay rent. He paid me back $1500 during march when we got our tax returns. During the months of DecembeJanuary our electric bill was $133 for the two months. He was short on rent and he sent me $150. I used that $150 to pay off our $133 electric bill for Dec 13th - Jan 12th. He's claiming that I stole the $150 even though I have record that I paid the bill. I let the electric bill stack up over two months because he already owed me rent for the month of December and January. I got record of the money he sent to me because he sends me money through the Zelle app. I spoke with law enforcement today if that's actually considered stealing and they said no.
Lastly, I was doing dishes one morning while his 4 year old daughter was outside in the common area, my roommate is a artist and he makes raps and produces beats. He lets her watch tv in the common area unsupervised. His daughter started undressing herself in the common area while I was doing my dishes and I didn't even notice until I finished my dishes. Now he's calling me a pedo even though I never even touched his daughter.
I don't have any narcotics or drugs in my apartment. I'm filing for his eviction in a week. Can he really set me up with the PDF allegations even though he has no proof? Or the 8th of shrooms that was sold to his baby moms with his consent over a year ago? Or with the allegations that I "stole" the money he sent me through Zelle when he was behind on rent?

I believed in fairies as a kid. More than believed in them. I think something terrible happened to me, and I've just buried it until now.
Call me a typical emotion-bottling man, but I have never considered therapy. No matter what I went through, no matter how many times I thought to myself, verbatim, that I should talk to someone about this, I just never thought of it as an option. It simply wasn't on my roster. It was just one of those things that existed on a separate plane of existence than I was living in, never to cross paths or interact lest the universe collapse in on itself.
I have no problem with therapy, don't get me wrong. It isn't like I don't understand the overall appeal. I have plenty of friends who swear by it, swear it has helped them tremendously, including my wife. It just wasn't ever something I thought was in my cards.
"I just never really thought about it," I told Alice one evening, when she had brought the topic up once again after dinner.
There was a serene sense of peace wafting through the entire house that day, and I was feeling content. It was a Sunday, and swimming season, so we had dropped Emmie off that morning at the public pool for practice and gone straight to our favorite breakfast place. The rest of the day was filled with all the conversation that had built up over the week, all the topics we couldn't fully dig into with each other while babysitting our eight year old, and lounging, all crammed in between sporadic bursts of housework and paperwork we had to catch up on. It was the perfect day, in my humble opinion. It was a lovely moment of peace in the midst of a chaotic life, as is life with kids. And now the sounds of Mario Kart drifted in from the living room, Emmie's squeals cutting through the cheery music every now and then, causing Alice and I to share small smiles of acknowledgement.
Oh, to be a child again. Still a little drenched from a post-swimming shower, full of chili, eyes glowing with the reflection of a television screen.
"Well, maybe you should." My wife was scooping leftover chili into a Tupperware with a ladle. Her hair had been tied up like it was every day after dinner, as if she planned to run a marathon rather than do the cleaning up. She wasn't looking at me, dialed into the task at hand.
It's crazy how some parts of my memory could be so good, and others nonexistent.
I reached over from where I stood before the dishwasher, sliding my arm around her waist. She gave me a look, like, what?
"I just don't think it's for me, babe," I muttered, resting my mouth on her shoulder as if I was trying to skip her ears and speak right through her skin. "You know those things make me uncomfortable sometimes."
She let out a half groan, half sigh, setting down the container and the ladle and turning to face me, draping her arms over my shoulders.
"Everything makes you uncomfortable, John."
I smiled, letting my hands fall to her hips. I knew her frustrated act was just that, an act, at least for the most part.
"It's good for you," she continued pointedly, reaching up to tap her pointer finger against my forehead as I swayed her back and forth to a nonexistent tune. "Like medicine. And I know for a fact there are some things you need to work through."
I feigned offense. "You think I'm some kind of nut job?"
"Everyone needs therapy," she snarled, pulling out of my arms, but she didn't resist when I reached out and drew her back in. "Not just nut jobs."
And that was how most of those conversations went. Some got a little more heated, ending with a lightly slammed door (so as not to wake our daughter) and a whisper-shout of "this is why you need therapy!"
I feel I'm making it sound bad, but it wasn't. Even our more serious fights never quite felt like fights. They felt like playing. We were like two cats, biting and tackling and swishing our tails, but never baring our teeth to hiss. I never felt genuine, full-bodied anger towards her, and I knew she felt the same. It sounds sappy, but we were just very in love. I sometimes felt that we had never actually left the honeymoon phase.
I'm also making it sound like that conversation was incredibly common, and it wasn't. It came up maybe once every few months. I knew she was just looking out for me. She knew me better than anyone.
We had met through mutual friends, and we had initially bonded over our terrible childhoods. We both had moms who were out of the picture, and over emotional, over compensating dads, although this manifested in vastly different ways. Alice's mother left her father for a D-list rockstar type, following him on his state wide tour. She would sometimes send Alice letters or postcards from the road, although her dad wouldn't always let her keep them if they seemed to be stained with blood or seemed to have made contact with any strange white powders.
Her dad coped with anger. He never laid a hand on her, but his shouting and the sounds of glass bottles smashing against the walls kept her up almost every night. During the days he'd take her out, buy her things, go mini golfing and bowling and to the movies. Anything to seem more fun than her mother.
My mother passed away on my seventh birthday. She was driving home from work, which was at a law firm half an hour away from our house, when it began to rain. She was texting my dad her ETA when she ran a red light and a semi truck T-boned her, completely obliterating her car.
After that, everything changed. My seventh birthday could've been my twenty-first. At night it was the worst. I remember sitting with my dad as he cried, curled up in a sobbing ball on the filthy living room carpet, whimpering like a kicked puppy. He would scream and wail so loud the walls shook. He would say, over and over as if I wasn't hearing him, sometimes mumbling and sometimes shrieking, "She was cut in half. I'm sorry sir, she's gone. No, there's no chance she survived, she was completely cut in half."
The days were almost worse. During the day, when he could decrease the helpless wails into weeping at the very least, his attention turned to me. He tried to get something out of me, almost silently begging me to break down with him. Every other second it was, "How are you feeling, son? Do you understand what's happening? You poor thing, you must be devastated, your mommy is gone... Don't you want to cry?"
But I couldn't indulge, and I didn't want to. I had to wash the sheets, because he'd pissed them again, and I didn't want him to sleep in it and smell like pee when he took me to school the next day. I had to vacuum the carpet, so the next time he curled up on it and begged God to take him too, when he finally stood up, his cheek wouldn't be caked in crumbs and dust.
I don't know if I ever truly mourned. My mother's death was more like an absence, as if someone had taken a pair of scissors and carved a chunk out of my side, or snipped off a limb. I could still feel her, I could still talk to her, but all I got back was a deep ache and a crushing silence.
I hated how people reacted when I told them my mom was dead, and had been since I was a little boy. I hated the looks on their faces when they asked how she died, and when I told them. How their mouths fell open dumbly and their eyebrows twisted and contorted in sympathetic horror. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know," they said, as if there was vomit rising in their throats, and I wanted to say, "Well, you fucking asked, didn't you?"
Alice never reacted like that. In fact, she never really even asked me what happened. We were on our second date, nursing beers while leaning against the pool table a a dingy speakeasy, when she told me about her own mom. It was the first time in a long time I actually felt like the conversation was open, like I could respond and she would listen and care, but not too much. Not an uncomfortable amount. When I told her about my parents she didn't say anything, and her pretty face didn't contort. She leaned over the corner of the pool table and kissed me on the cheek, took my hand.
The day she found out she was pregnant, we promised each other to be better, to not let our child ever have to grieve alone or feel the very specific hopeless terror that only a parent can cause.
So maybe I should have listened to her. Maybe I should have gone to therapy the first time she brought it up, the first time she told me how it had helped her get through her own terrible memories. But if I'm being honest, I didn't think I had anything to get through. I had left it in the past, I had coped so far in my own somewhat crooked way, I didn't want to dig any of that back up. I didn't want to be put back in that place where I was expected to talk, to cry, to open up. It made my skin crawl just thinking about it.
"I was always the therapist," I would say to her with a crooked grin. "And I like it that way."
Then, the dreams started.
I could tell you I don't know what triggered them, I don't know why it was now. But that wouldn't be the truth. I know exactly why I started to remember.
At first, they were brief. Nightmares that I couldn't quite recall or explain, waking up disoriented and a little sick. The rest of my day would feel strange, like I was surrounded by a thick fog. Eventually, they started to wake me up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and screaming, scaring the shit out of my wife. Once I ran to the bathroom and threw up, barely making it to the toilet. That was when the word "therapy" came up again.
It feels like I've been in a coma for twenty years, and I'm just waking up now.
It's so strange how different the world looks to a child.
I believed in fairies as a kid. Laugh it up if you want. When I turned four, my aunt brought me this book - we've all had one, I think. It was one of those huge hardcover books filled with information about something mythical, with little patches of fabric to simulate a mermaid's scales or a dragon's claw.
Mine was about fairies, and it was so real to me. My mom would sit up with me later than she probably should have, reading to me, placing my hand on the textures to feel. I wanted to know everything about them, I became obsessed, and naturally, my parents played along. They bought me toys, books... every year I had a fae themed birthday cake, and any kid who dared to giggle behind their hands weren't invited to next year's celebration.
When I was old enough to use the internet, supervised of course, I began further research. My mom helped me navigate Wikipedia first, and they had plenty of information to sustain me for a while. My interest turned from wings and magical powers to different types of fae from every corner of the earth, mushroom rings and their alleged distaste for iron. While I still wasn't very good at reading, I would just look at the pictures until she got home from work.
When my mom died, the fairy memorabilia began to amp up. My aunt bought me new books, gave them to me wrapped and tied with ribbons with tear filled eyes, and my dad brought them up whenever he thought I needed comforting and felt strong enough to leave the house. "Wanna go look in the forest for fairies, son?"
I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I began to worship the fairies. I was convinced they lived in the forest behind my house, just behind each tree I looked at, hiding from me. I would spend my weekends escaping into the woods with a bucket and a cheap pair of binoculars, positive that this time, this day, I would see one.
At night, when my dad finally passed out in his own puddle of tears and other bodily fluids, I would pray to them. I never believed in God, we weren't a particularly religious family, and besides, I had seen what good He had done for my dad thus far. But I believed in the fairies.
I asked them for help with my father. I asked them for peace. I asked them to bring her back to me.
They never answered.
Until they did.
It was a Friday. I remember now, I'm not sure how I could have forgotten. After school I had sprinted into the shade of the trees before my dad could stop me, gripping the hem of my shirt in my fist, the thin fabric bearing the weight of two handfuls of the shiniest silverware and most colorful buttons I could find in our dusty cabinets.
I had a plan that day. I was going to lure them to me.
My path began in a clearing where I thought a ring of mushrooms may have begun to grow... but even without that, it was just the perfect spot for fairies. I could picture them flitting between the trees, chirping to each other happily, picking wildflowers to weave into flower crowns.
I walked backwards all the way back to my bedroom window, dropping another item every few steps. When I got inside and looked out my window, I could see my trail of shiny things curve through the overgrown grass in our backyard and disappear into the trees.
I was so excited, I could hardly contain myself. Tonight, surely, they would come to me. They would show themselves, and they would help me. But after another few late hours of coddling my father, finally convincing him to drink some water and get in bed, I was exhausted. I completely forgot about my plan. When I got to my room I collapsed on my mattress, not even bothering to undress before I closed my eyes.
Then I heard it. The scratching.
I opened my eyes. The moonlight shining through my bedroom window casted strange shadows across my ceiling, shadows of the swaying grass and the creaking trees.
It was strangely silent, other than the sound. Usually there was lots of noise, or at the very least a few crickets, but not tonight. Tonight, I realized, I couldn't even hear the wind.
I sat up slowly, as if in a dream, and looked toward my window. I couldn't see anything out there, nothing glaringly obvious at least, that could be making that noise.
The scratching turned to a tap. Tap tap tap, like a fingernail against a glass. It had a playful air to it, like someone was saying, look over here!
I stood, rubbing my eyes, and stumbled over. The tapping stopped abruptly when I got to the window and peered outside, out to the dark yard, pitch black if not for the moon's glow. The grass didn't sway, the trees didn't creak. I frowned and unlatched the window, sliding it up above my head.
I was right, there was no wind. Not even a gust. Everything was still outside, like it was frozen. I actually started to believe it was frozen, that time had stopped completely somehow, before I saw it.
My trail of silverware and buttons. Sparkling softly in the moonlight.
Disappearing.
It began where the path met the trees, curving off where I couldn't follow it anymore. A fork disappeared right before my eyes, right on the edge. Just vanished, as if someone who was invisible had picked it up and stuffed it in a pocket very quickly.
Then another went, a spoon. Then a particularly large gold button. Whatever was taking them was doing what I had wanted, it was taking my bait, it was coming to me. And it was as if whatever had tapped at my window had wanted me to see this, wanted to show me.
But something felt very, very wrong.
This wasn't how I had pictured it. There was no twinkling, tiny winged thing at my window, winking at me before dashing back into the safety of the trees. There were no secrets being whispered in my ear, no fairy dust or promises of better things.
Something about this wasn't right. It felt like a mimicry, almost a mockery, of what I had imagined. Like something was trying to give me what I wanted, but was rusty at it.
I didn't want this anymore.
My stomach twisted and my hands shook as I pulled the window back down slowly, watching more glittery things disappear from the grass, growing closer and closer. As soon as it was closed I quickly locked it and pulled the blinds shut, turning my back to the window as if something would happen that I didn't want to see.
Nothing happened. The deafening silence continued for a few seconds as my ears strained to hear anything else happening outside. Then the wind picked up, and the sounds of crickets, muffled by my closed window, filled the night air.
I don't remember when I fell asleep that night, I just know I felt unnerved and jumpy for a while. I woke up the next morning feeling guilty. Had the fairies really come last night? Maybe they had come to talk to me, to bring me gifts, favors, and what had I done? I had closed my window on them. I felt ungrateful. Why had I even been scared? Because it was dark outside? What was I, a baby?
When I opened my window and peered outside, I gasped. The trail of silverware and buttons was completely gone, all the way up to the last one, which I had placed on my windowsill. In its place was a shoe. I didn't know what kind of shoe it was, but it looked sort of nice, fancy. I remember smiling out the window as I opened it, as if they were looking, and taking my gift.
How could I forget that night? How could I have forgotten what happened after? I feel crazy, either like I made it all up or like I've made up everything since then, like my life isn't truly my own.
I remember telling my dad. I remember saying, "Dad, the fairies came last night!" and the absent smile he gave me.
Until I showed him their gift. The shoe. Instantly his face went pale and he snatched it from my hands, staring at me as if I was something unholy.
"Where did you get this, Johnny?"
"The fairies, dad, I told you!"
He didn't respond. Just gave me another long, solemn look, before turning away from me, still holding the present I received close to his chest. I was upset, but I knew better than throwing a tantrum. That would be too much emotion anyways, too uncomfortable. Even back then, I didn't know how to handle those things.
I didn't show him their gifts after that. I didn't want to risk having them taken away. I tried not to be scared of the fairies, even though they always came at night, but I didn't go to my window when they came anymore. I read everywhere that fairies didn't particularly like to be seen, even though this one seemed to want to be. It always began with tapping, but otherwise complete silence that almost felt like it was swallowing me... and eventually the tapping would stop, the silence would pass, and I would fall asleep. In the morning there was always another gift for me, sitting on my window sill. A sparkly gold ring, the other matching shoe, a hat... I smiled when I took every one, wanting them to know I was grateful. And I would leave things for them too, little sweets or shiny things like coins or paperclips that I found on the ground at school.
Things seemed to get better with my dad for a while. He kept to himself more, he was quieter. At night he would cry softly in his room, rather than his uproarious wails that I used to have to quell so the neighbors wouldn't come knocking. During the day, he would talk to me, but more casually. He didn't ask me how I was feeling anymore, or tell me to let it out.
I hoped this was the fairies. I felt invincible, like I had a secret superpower that no one knew about. I was friends with fairies.
Then one night, everything changed.
It started with the tapping, as always. That night I was fast asleep, catching up on well earned rest since the nightly therapy sessions had ceased.
The tapping woke me. It was that loud. It was louder than usual... but it seemed like it stopped abruptly as soon as I raised my head to look.
That was different...
That night, I had left my blinds up and my window open by accident. Since that first night, even though I wasn't scared anymore, I had always closed them... but this time, I must have forgotten.
It was silent outside. It seemed darker than usual. I could almost make out something, a shape, way on the other side of the yard, but it was too dark and I was too far away to tell.
That feeling from that first night retuned. A twisting like a hand reaching into my stomach and mixing things around, a heavy feeling in my chest like someone had stolen all of the air from my room, even though the window was open. The silence seemed to crush me, bearing down on me from every angle, making my ribs hurt.
The feeling that something was very wrong.
I don't remember deciding to stand: looking back, I have no idea why I would do that in my state of fight or flight. I don't know if I consciously chose to. I don't remember walking over, but I remember getting there, my hands on the windowsill and my head poking out into the completely still night air.
There was something there. On the edge of the trees. Right where I had seen that first fork disappear into thin air. I squinted, leaning further into the darkness to try and make out what it was.
When I finally did, the outline taking shape as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I began to shake uncontrollably. I remember that I tried to scream, but no sound would come. I couldn't move, couldn't do anything but stare.
Two legs stood in front of the trees, facing me. Two legs, a blood-soaked pair of slacks, no shoes on the purple, swollen feet. And a jagged, violent rip in the torso where the rest of my mother's body had been severed from its lower half.
It took me a while to realize that the legs weren't standing on their own. They began to move, jerking clumsily toward the window, like something I couldn't see was struggling to hold them up. I finally forced myself out of my trance and fell to my carpet, vomiting.
I don't remember much else about that night yet. My dad came running when I started crying, I'm sure, but he didn't see what I saw. My mom's legs were gone, or hidden. Because they weren't for him.
They were for me.
We moved after that. Before now if you had asked me why we moved so far away so suddenly, I probably would have mumbled something about the grief, and it being too hard to stay where my mother had died. But I remember why now.
It was because the next morning, when I checked my windowsill, there was a hand. My mother's hand. Purple and stiff, and missing her gold wedding ring. Reaching, fingers rested against the glass, like it was trying to get in.
Like it had been tapping.
I don't want to think about what else it might have brought, had we stayed.
That thing, whatever it was, wasn't my mother, and it wasn't a fairy. I had invited something else with all my praying, with all my naive and innocent beliefs, and with all my bottled up emotions. I had invited it, and I had let it in.
And then I had forgotten everything. Maybe I bottled that up, too.
Now I remember. Now I'm having nightmares, and waking up with that sick feeling in my gut, my eyes jumping to our closed bedroom window.
Because a week ago, my daughter woke me up very early in the morning my jumping on our bed. A week ago, she shook me awake, her eager smile stretching all the way across her face. A week ago, she told me, "Dad, the fairies came last night!"
She showed me a doll, a ballerina, with a pink tutu and beautiful long blonde hair.
And now, with all these terrible memories hitting me like cold water to the face, only one keeps me awake at night.
I asked them for help with my father. I asked them for peace. I asked them to bring her back to me.
It has granted two of my wishes, in its own twisted way. My father grew distant from me and my mother was brought back in pieces.
I'm happy now. But I don't have peace. I don't think I'll ever fully have peace, at least not with a child and a wife to try and provide for, and not with all of these memories.
So what has it come back for?

TW for sexual, physical, medical, emotional, and religious abuse, childhood sa, suicidal ideation, and self harm
This past week has been incredibly difficult due to that holiday so I decided it would be good for me to write a letter to my nmom to keep for myself during my healing process to get everything out and it's been very cathartic. Part of my healing journey has been sharing my (extremely personal) experience with others who understand, hence why I'm sharing this here, and maybe it'll give someone some strength knowing that I made it out after all of this. I hope everyone was kind to themselves this week and was able to treat this holiday as a holiday for themselves for surviving their nmoms!
Dear mom, Happy belated Mother’s Day. My Mother’s Day was spent being upset and anxious so I decided to write this letter. This letter is so incredibly difficult to write and even more difficult to read back to myself. Moving away from university and back home during COVID was genuinely one of the most difficult things I have done in my life simply because of all of the repressed memories that flooded back into my brain every single day I was in that house. I used to resent the pandemic for forcing me to live in an environment that made me want to harm myself every single day and die every other day, but I am now thankful for the clarity that it brought me as I don’t think I’d have the foresight that I have now.
There is a lot that I want to say. I am angry, bitter, resentful, and traumatized from things that you have done to me as a child and also as an adult. I thought for a very long time that thing were normal but thank God I now know just how truly fucked up so many of my childhood experiences were. Not a single day goes by where I don’t think about the emotional, physical, and sexual abuse that I went through. I am haunted every single day by things that you did (and some things that you didn’t do) and hope that one day I will be able to heal from what I experienced.
I grew up being close to my cousin Chloe (a year younger than me) who was obviously very bitchy, mean, and abusive. This fact isn’t something you weren’t aware of as I know a fully grown adult would be able to see how she treated and talked to me when around you and come to the obvious conclusion that I should not have been allowed to be around her. She bullied me, called me names, physically assaulted me by pushing me, pulling my hair, and sitting on me with my hands held behind my back until I couldn’t breathe, forced me to bathe in scolding hot bath water that would burn my skin, making me undress and make fun of parts of my body, and forced me to watch things that she knew would scare me. This is the same time that I started having insomnia and struggled in school due to anxiety. It’s also the same time I remember my sound sensitivity starting. Do you remember my childhood friend’s mom Amelia and how protective she was over my friend, Diana? Diana met Chloe at my 9th birthday party and Diana went over to her house for a playdate and Chloe did something to her. She physically reached over and groped Diana on the privates. I knew Amelia IMMEDIATELY prevented her daughter from ever being around Chloe again. I also knew that it's possible she mentioned this to my aunt, but I'm not positive. I know that Amelia is the type of mom to prevent Diana from reading Harry Potter because she thought it was a bad influence on her due to being “demonic”, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she made you aware of what Chloe did to Diana as she knew that I spent a lot of time around her. I doubt that what Chloe did to Diana was ever kept a secret from you. Chloe also forced me to do sexual things I didn’t want to do from roughly the ages of 8-11. One time, we were in her kitchen and she pulled out a knife and said that she was going to stab me. By then, I knew she just wanted to scare me so when I had no reaction, she put the knife away. I was terrified of what would happen if I said no to her so I went along with whatever she wanted. She would go into the bathroom and tell me to follow, would lock the door, and make me take off my clothes and let her do things to me and forced me to do the same things to her. I used to think that you had NO IDEA about this until I remember you saying the words- “you were an amazing kid and never had any problems until you got a little older. I always wondered if something happened.” Who the fuck says that to their kid???? Yeah, something DID happen and it wouldn’t have happened if you protected me!!!! You fucking idiot!!!! I remember being in our new house and taking a shower with you when I was about 8 (which was VERY inappropriate and should NEVER have happened at all) and saying something that clearly made you uncomfortable. It CLEARLY indicated something was going on. I remember the exact face you made and know that any normal, healthy adult would have done something about it and made sure nothing was happening. They would have made sure I was SAFE, and talked to me about safety, but nothing was said or done. You have failed me many times, but this one is the most painful. Not only will you need to live with the fact that you knew about my abuse and did nothing, but I will have to live with the fact that my mom knew "something happened” and didn’t care about me enough to protect me. I look at my beautiful niece Hallie, and imagine not protecting her like that and want to vomit. I cannot fathom how a mother would have the thought “I wonder if something happened to my daughter to case a massive behavioral change” and NOT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT! You didn’t talk to me, never asked me if Chloe was doing anything, or anything at all. If I even had a minor suspicion that something was happening to Hallie, I would IMMEDIATELY do something about it because THAT IS MY JOB as an adult in her life. You failed me and deserve to know that this traumatized me and gave me PTSD. I am NOT autistic, no matter how much you WANT me to be so you can go around and gain sympathy for “having an autistic daughter” rather than owning up to the fact that you caused what “went wrong” with me.
Not only did you not help prevent me from being molested by my cousin, you also added to my sexual trauma by forcing me to use the giant egg monistat insert to treat a yeast infection when I was 11. I was ELEVEN and you had a bright idea to force a HUGE foreign object into my prepubescent body even though you were fully aware I could have easily gotten a prescription for a pill to swallow from a doctor. I was scared. I had so much pain and itching and needed a mother to hug me, tell me it’s going to be okay, or at the very least, EXPLAIN what I had and how we were going to fix it. You didn’t do any of that. You told me to lay down and proceeded to try and administer medication that is NOT meant for children 12 and under due to the physical damage it could cause. I was clearly in pain and scared, but you kept trying anyways. At any point, you could have stopped and taken me to the fucking doctor, but nope. You then got frustrated that “you couldn’t get it in” and told your 11 year old daughter to shove it inside herself. Then you left the room. I hadn’t even had a period yet, let alone know where my vagina was but you sure felt the need to yet again abandon your parental responsibilities and place them onto your kid! Miraculously, I put it in and wobbled out to lay on the couch because I was in physical pain from BOTH the infection and YOU, but because a child’s body isn’t able to properly fully insert the medication used (which once again I’ll remind you is meant for girls 13 and up), it came out and got on the couch because you didn’t give me a pad. And rather than prioritize your own daughter’s health, safety, wellbeing, and comfort, you were more upset about the stain on the couch and yelled at me. I will never forget in all of the years that I am alive how ashamed and disgusted I felt standing behind you watching you furiously scrub at the stain that I caused (actually, that YOU caused since this never should have happened in the first place!) and feeling a huge flood of guilt every time I saw that couch stain. One of the best days of my life was when we got a new couch and I never had to see that stain again.
All of this caused me to develop anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts and ideation, self harming behaviors, having out of body experiences where I dissociate, and panic attacks amongst other things. YOU caused ALL of this and you fought tooth and nail to convince me that it was MY fault for being broken. “There’s something going on with you,” and you made it your mission to never take any responsibility for any of the trauma that you caused. Not only did you ignore all signs of abuse and sexually assault me yourself, you bullied and helped a family friend Sharon bully me when I was “being mean” to (her daughter) Faith. I was treated like I was a mentally ill monster who couldn’t be trusted and always got in trouble whenever Faith shed a single tear because I was “mean to her”. Faith cried at LEAST 15x a day, and I was blamed every time she decided to say I was the reason. You allowed a monster (Sharon) to ABUSE me and had the incredibly wise idea to start passing along what shit talking you two would say about me TO ME, a 13 year old girl. I was THIRTEEN. I was A CHILD. And yet, you came crying and complaining to me about how tired you were of hearing Sharon say I was being mean to her daughter when you could have TOLD THE OTHER ADULT IN THE SITUATION TO STOP. It never was my responsibility as a child to try and make another adult stop abusing me by “behaving better.” There was nothing wrong with how I was behaving. You never once tried to help me, you always blamed anybody and everybody else for your failures. I would come and ask you for help when I was struggling and if you didn’t care, you would pawn it off to somebody else- “go talk to your older sister” “talk to your therapist about that” “I don’t know what to say except to tell you to pray about it” and when I came back saying praying didn’t magically fix my depression, you told me to pray harder. I guess you really thought it was a skill issue rather than a diagnosable health condition! No wonder I wanted to die! Hahaha! I’ll never forget the look of disgust on your face when I was sobbing hysterically and struggling to get out the words when I told you just how badly I was affected by Sharon and said how you played a role in helping her harm and abuse me. “WELL. I’m SORRY if you think I didn’t protect you enough. I know what that feels like because my parent’s took my sister’s side a few weeks ago when we were having an argument” (as FULLY GROWN 50+ YEAR OLDS arguing and bitching LIKE CHILDREN!) No, mom, it’s not the same. I was a child and not only did you not stop an abuser from harming me, you joined in. You allowed her access to me and you passed along what horrible things she said was wrong with me. “SHARON said she thinks YOU’RE BIPOLAR. Do you think you are?” “Sharon told me that you’re having AN EPISODE and are being mean to Faith! Show me your phone!” Erm? I’m thirteen? What do you expect me to do? “Well, I just don’t understand why you keep bringing this up when it happened so long ago. I just hope you can forgive her and move on.” You’re fucking disgusting. Should I go into detail about how many times I asked you to not interact with Sharon more than you needed to and you proceeded to try and force her into my life more? You KNEW how uncomfortable I was with you attending Faith’s wedding and yet, you cared more about how you looked and not only attended, but hosted both her wedding and wedding shower. I have always wondered why you never cared how I feel until I realized that you prioritize yourself and how you look to other people above anything and everyone. There is a clear pattern of behavior- - When I was 17 and you were berating me at your work for wanting to visit my friend up in Boston to see a concert together because “you just didn’t understand why I’d want to do that” and I started crying. You rolled your eyes and said “you better leave now if you don’t want my next client to see you crying because her appointment is in a few minutes.” You cared more about having your random client seeing me cry and potentially thinking you’re a bad mom than comforting me. - When I was 13 and we were saying our nightly prayer the night that I had my “therapy appointment” (aka, you and my “therapist” chastising me for writing in my diary that I was having suicidal thoughts), when you were praying you said “Dear God, please help (my name)… and… pLEASE HELP ME!!!!” Clearly, YOU were affected more than I was even though I was the one wanting to die because of you. Wow. Your life is so hard! - Telling everyone around you that I “have problems” and am “really struggling” so you can gain an ounce of sympathy. The way that your friends come up and talk to me is baffling. - Laughing about me with my friends in high school when I was out of the room- “hahaha my daughter is sooooo weird hahaha” - When I was 18 and you called my “therapist” (who did NOT get my consent before doing this and violated her ethical guidelines) after I moved out and stopped talking to you, you got her to help you write a list of “rules” to force me to stay in contact with you. They consisted of requiring me to “talk to you, dad, or my sister at least 1x/day” so you “knew that I was safe” aka, you wanted to control me even though I was an adult and not living in your house. I was perfectly safe, and yet you made me sound like I was doing drug deals in the morning, prostituting myself after lunch, and had plans to commit felonies later that night. I went to school, ate, and went back to my apartment. You had no right manipulating me into talking to you by using my therapist, dad, and sister against me. Pathetic. - Telling me to go do my runs on a strange man’s property instead of the road because it’s “safer.” Dad said that this man who I’VE NEVER MET told him that “there are bad people out there who will kidnap her and do horrible things to her, SO INSTEAD she should run on MY property!” Not sketchy or rapey at all, right? And completely dismissing me when I said that made me uncomfortable by saying “my dad knows him”? Lady, do you know any rape statistics? Clearly not, because you’d then know that only 7% of assaults are strangers while 93% are family members or acquaintances. NINETY THREE PERCENT. The amount of times that I’ve mentioned someone made me uncomfortable or had a massive affect on me as a child and you’ve replied with “Oh, well did they touch you?” People don’t have to touch me to traumatize me. You’re pathetic for thinking that.
I’m not mad at Chloe. I don’t feel any anger or ill will towards her at all. She was a child just like I was a child. She was failed more than I was failed. No child acts that way and assaults other children without learning that from somewhere. I blame her parents for what happened to her. I blame YOU for what happened to me. I vividly remember things that my aunt would say the same time this was happening about little girls and their bodies and I want to smash my head against the wall. Children are to be protected above anything and everything else, by you didn’t. Do I hate Faith and think that she’s a bad person because of what happened when we were 13? No. I fully blame you and Sharon. The amount of adults that have failed me in my life keep me up at night. I think about how different my life would be had dad been more involved and seen what was going on and taken me away from you. I am angry with him for that. I dream one day I will be able to sit down with him and tell him everything I have written about and he will hug me, support me, cry with me, and apologize for not being there more to protect me. But who knows, he might defend his child abusing, mentally ill wife and say I’m making up everything. Who knows.
Do you want to know what my sister said when I told her all of this? She apologized to me for not being 15 years older than I am so she could have raised me instead. I want you to sit here and think about how fucked up that is. My own sister wishes she could have taken me away from you so you couldn’t have abused me. I imagine the pressure she must have felt having to grow up while also raising her mother and sister and I sob for her. I’ve sobbed for me for the mental anguish and torture I experienced at your hands. I’ve even sobbed for you because I can’t imagine being even a fraction of how fucked up you are to resort to abusing and neglecting your child- a child you begged to have. A child you had trouble having and prayed for. Embarrassing.
I’m never going to have a relationship with you again. If God is willing, I will never have to interact with you ever again. Saying that phrase “if God is willing” is ironic because you forcing me to pray my problems away rather than helping me led me to not believe in him. How can I believe in something that also neglected me? I’d sit in my dark bedroom night after night praying and sobbing for him to help me. I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I felt broken and alone. I now know that I was a child praying for God to take away my PTSD, and that is not possible. My heart breaks for that child.
You’re a pathetic excuse for a mother and human being. I’m truly shocked that I survived you and your abuse. I’m surprised that I didn’t ever try to kill myself to try and get away from you because you’re a vulture that prays on innocent people. The only important people in your life are people you think will give you something or will make you look good. That’s why you refused to ever cut ties with Sharon, you knew she was sexually abused as a child and you couldn’t POSSIBLY NOT be her friend because you need her to be your “friend,” or rather, your token sexually abused as a child friend. I genuinely hope that you get better and become a normal healthy person but I won’t ever be around to see it. I hope you feel even a fraction of the pain and abandonment that I have felt my entire life. Happy Mother’s Day, but today isn’t Mother’s Day for me, it’s Daughter’s Day. Moving far away from you one month ago has truly saved my life. Instead of trying to survive, I am enjoying my life. I would have died in that house. I get to finally celebrate being away from you and celebrate myself for staying strong and fighting when I could have easily given up. You once told me “you feel like I HATE you!” to guilt me into fawning over you and telling you how much I loved you, but now you get the opposite. I DO hate you and hate how you have permanently changed me and I wish to never see you again. Instead of praying for the “God forsaken, atheist, lost, evil, liar, miserable, spiteful, hateful, disgusting, mentally ill, “autistic” daughter, pray for yourself. Pray for God’s forgiveness for emotionally, medically, physically, sexually, and religiously abusing and neglecting me. You deserve to remain in your "clueless" state of "having NO IDEA what you did wrong to make her stop talking to me!" for the rest of your life.Happy Daughter’s Day.

So it was my first day at this new job , working in a guitar store. Famous guitarists walked in, we had a chat ,gossip u might call them ,business as usual . At the end of the day my mom and her friend (we called her doctor) came to visit and one of the co workers suggested that four of us go for a night out .
U could tell my coworker and doctor hit it off .she was at the wheel and we were just driving around and saw Marlon Brando, later we ran into Robert Downey Jr. At some point we stopped at this corner and I went to grab some junk food. When I got back I told them about a crashed car behind the diner.
Those two " lovers " ( we joked about them whole night)were really interested and went to check it out but I decided to give them space and stayed back . As I was eating by the car, I started thinking about the day and how weird it was that we ran into those celebrities , kinda strange those two bonded really quickly.then it hit me and everything became clear.
I ran towards the end of the street, passed a block and there it was. Huge gathering of people at the beach. Everybody was either naked or wearing a white shorts. As I was getting undressed couple of men (they all were wearing black suits and red ties) stopped their car and asked me what is going on. That's when I said:
"u see , we live inside a dream" .

Some observations & questions: 1. She seems very fixated on herself, more than usual. Even when she is traveling, her content is shots of herself, the dog, and Swann if he tags along. She chooses to highlight herself over the destination. The travel content has become less about the travel, and more about making her life seem perfect on social media. 2. Lots of content trying on clothes or in various stages of undress. She comes across as very thirsty. And Swann seems over her. Even in the videos of her getting ready for the opera/ballet/who cares as long as I look fancy, he can’t get out of the room fast enough. 3. Friends. Where are they? Did I miss something, or have Emily and Flower Shop mom-to-be not been around? It’s never seemed as though she had a lot of friends, and apparently zero back home, but where’s the usual cast of characters? 4. At least she has taken a break from her failed cooking content. The salad dressing is due for a reappearance soon, however… 5. What happened to all the activities she was doing? No more ballet or fencing? No more Sunday church service? Does she ever follow through with anything, other than buying followers? Well, there is the book… 6. Her book just will not die. It’s really the only thing she has accomplished, somehow getting it published, and she will not let it go. Planning more book events? Stop! Your book is so last year and your separation is so last decade. 7. The poor dog seems to be a bandaid for everything missing in her life. I would argue that this was the absolute worst time for her to bring a pet into her world. She’s seemingly been in a spiral since MexicA, and you can’t properly care for a pet (or another person) if you aren’t taking care of yourself. She’s so out of touch that she’s letting him sit in white tablecloth restaurants AT THE TABLE. 8. What happened between Banana and Scamanda? When she was home for the recent visit, their dynamic seemed off. It’s been off since MexicA as well. No sisterly bonding content over Christmas, no travel together to fabulous destinations since. Just a weird thrift store fashion show, trying to outdo one another.
She needs a reboot and a purpose. Over 100K recent followers when all she does is sling whitening strips, let her dog lick tables, and try on clothes? It’s all very transparent, and as the tag says: tragic, not magic 🪄

I am probably not DID. I do refer to myself as the Dart Collective.
I am in therapy for CPTSD. Adding ADHD, and perhaps some Autism adds intererst. My doc precribed the ADHD drugs to see if they would help with my focus. They do. My T. says a diagnosis of autism wouldn't make any difference in treatment, and since it costs about a thousand bucks to get 6the diagnosis, I ahven't bothered. I test well above threshold on most of the online tests.
I've taken the DES II test a couple times. Depending on how literally I take the percentage answers I get a score between 15 and 30.
I'm pretty functional. My reaction to trauma was to numb emotions. Generally I don't find emotions very useful, and I find being able to partially mute them to be an advantage.
However in the 2 years of therapy, I've become more aware of my emotional state and more aware of somatics. I rarely fully dissociate. Dual awareness has helped me with this. In some ways it's too bad. Turning my brain off was convenient and peaceful.
Here's the new thing however:
I have a new form of hijacking. Perhaps it's always been here and only now am I noticing it.
Persona A: High energy. Almost manic. Quick witted, hard working, very positive. Confident.
Persona B: Down. Lower edge of window of tolerance. Indifferent. Doom scrolls. Reluctant to go to bed.
Persona C: Very creative. Improvises on piano. Comes up with lots of ideas.
Persona D: Toxic shame. Low libido. Asexual in outlook.
Persona E: Reckless. Ignores bad consequences.
Persona F: High Libido. Tries to hookup with half the guys on Grindr.
Persona G: Law abiding, rule follower.
Persona H: Rebel. Shit disturber.
These persona are not exclusive. I get mixes of them. Unlike emotional flashbackes persona mixes can hang around for days.
But I don't consider them alters: When I'm in a mix, the contrary components are just, well wrong. "That's just wrong", the Ace persona thinks about the HL persona.
Some naturally go together. E and H for example. But I can be E, without being H. E.g. As E I will try pushing harder on trampoline, but am not rebellious. As H: I can quietly and carefully plan my fecal material redistribution plots.
But I don't think of these as alters. Near as I can tell there is no discontinuity of memory. So they all share the same memory space.
So how do less capable parts become Alters?
Some extra info. I've recognized parts. Only a few have ever communicated in words. Mostly it's playing 20 questions visualling scenes and 'feeling' if there is a resonance. There have been some intrusive memories (e.g. I was tell my parts,"this was long ago. And it happened only once" and in my minds eye, a toddler stood, an expression of defiance on his face, right arm raised, with a hand with fingers splayed. And I **knew* that splayed fingers didn't mean Five,but rather it meant Many.)
The CSA at age 3 is at this point only highly probable. Changes in behaviour are consistent with it. But on top of this I don't seem to have formed much of an attachment bond with either parent. Parents didn't take to Dr. Spock, and so believed in the prior theory that children should be handled as little as possible consistent with them being fed, clean, and the right temperature. Fortunately my sister (13 yr older) stepped in. Sis also stopped one attempt of my mom to throw me at the wall.
I have a 2+ year old part, i think formed as a reaction to being left for 3 days at a local hospital. I needed eye surgery for a lazy eye. I have an early memory of standing in a crib, watching mom retreat down a hallway through a pair of double doors. I met this part in a lucid dream, hearing an argument coming from a house that matched the one I grew up in. Rest of the neighbourhood was very different. I call him bluestrip, as he wears a yellow tee with horizontal blue strips with faint green lines on the edges of the blue where the dye ran. Later I found pics of me wearing horizontally striped shirts. Alas, black and white pics.
There is Socks. He's post trauma, whatever happened. Refuses to be seen outside bed/bath not fully clothed. Including socks. Rest of my family was often barefoot. I also insisted on wearing underwear under my PJs Never went swimming. Never undressed to play in the sprinkler. Didn't wear shorts in summer until about age 9.

I went to visit them along with my sister. My daughter was on the bed. Her step-mom, my sister and I were also in the room.
She told her step-mom to help her change her clothes. The woman did not even tell my sister and me to leave the room out of courtesy/etiquette; and started to undress her in front of us. My sister and I were so shocked that we didn't know what to do. We just looked at each other. Then more surprisingly, my daughter told my sister and me to leave the room and come later as if she is more comfortable in front of her step-mom. Is my daughter going away from me?
I tried to convince my ex-husband to hire a nurse. But he did not agree. My daughter also does not want that. Any suggestions?

1) that kiss at the party when amma put that drug in her sister’s mouth.
2) vivid descriptions of amma’s body in the book
"One triangle of her top had fallen askew to reveal the plump breast beneath. Thirteen years old, I thought to myself, but I felt a spear of admiration for the girl. When I'd been sad, I hurt myself. Amma hurt other people. When I'd wanted attention, I'd submitted myself to boys: Do what you want; just like me. Amma's sexual offerings seemed a form of aggression. Long skinny legs and slim wrist and high, babied voice, all aimed like a gun. Do what I want; might like you."
3) there was a lot more moments that were inappropriate and weird but also the mother in the book undressing Camille without permission and I believe bathing her just felt icky.
My interpretation of this was
The older women envying younger family members & wanting to be like them. by sexualizing them in their mind or molesting them, they feel they’re consuming a younger version of themselves
But also amma had a weird inappropriate energy initating things with Camille, my guess is she craved attention from her like she craved attention from her mom
What’s your guys’ take on this?

As the title states I (22F) have been dating my boyfriend (25M) for almost a year now. We are both in college and stay in off campus apartments (although he is at mine 80% of the time.) He was raised by a single mom and grandma who basically did everything for him his whole life. Cooked for him, fed him, cleaned up for and after him, and so forth. Being an oldest sibling of 5 I have a lot of naturally maternal instincts and nature.
I do all the cooking, plating of our meals, all the dishes afterwards, and cleaning of my room which he is constantly dirtying. If I don’t cook he starves. He can’t even make a bowl of ramen. If I don’t pick up after him under my bed will be littered with candy wrappers, juice bottles, chip bags, and so forth. Occasionally we’ll eat in bed and watch a movie or something (I’ve since started making us eat at the table at all times due to this) and I’ll catch him wiping his fingers and hands off on my pillows and sheets… despite me providing ample napkins. He undresses and throws clothes onto the ground. He leaves dirty socks EVERYWHERE.
I’ve voiced once how important it is for me to maintain a clean or atleast tidy room due to my depression… but I don’t think it really got through. It’s tiring feeling like I have to teach a grown man how to be clean. How do I go about another conversation regarding this.

I've been struggling lately, as I have a 2mo who is cluster feeding, colicky and hasn't been sleeping much. My husband has already exhausted his monthly sick days so he can't be of much help. But I haven't been eating properly either because I'm just always trying to soothe the baby and then when she finally goes to sleep, I'm exhausted and food is the last thing on my mind. My home is also a wreck right now. My husband does help when he's home but typically he's only helping with the baby and neither of us are able to get to the chores aspect of things (dishes or laundry). My husband was talking to his mom about everything and she offered to come over and help with the baby so I could take a nap, shower and eat. I accepted her offer, despite me having my doubts. She has only held the baby once (has no interest). I got along with this woman BEFORE I got pregnant. But after I did get pregnant, she kind of changed. She became one of those "boy mom's" that everyone talks about. Basically trying as hard as physically possible to get my husband out of the house or like.. started buying him stupid expensive things because "you won't be able to spoil yourself for a long time so you deserve it". Like, literally bought him a $900 watch (he doesn't wear watches).
Anywho, she shows up this morning around 10am. Takes the baby and says "run along and start the laundry". Okay? So I just go do the laundry because really, it needed to be done. But then she walks in the bathroom while holding the baby, who was now screaming, and telling me how to do my husband's laundry. I get one load in and she passes the baby back to me, saying "my arms are tired". So she had the baby maybe 7 minutes. I go nurse the baby and get her down for a nap. I tell MIL I'm going to take a shower and baby is sleeping. I'm in the shower not even 3 mins before MIL straight up walks in with my baby undressed and hands her to me in the shower. Says "she woke up and figured she needs a bath anyways, she's got stinky ears" and walks out, leaving the door wide open. I finish up and go out to find her asleep sitting up on my couch. She wakes up around 2 and I'm honestly peeved because I felt like I had to be extra quiet so I didn't wake her for HOURS while I'm already struggling (she's a complete bitch when she's woken up). She takes the baby and I tell her I'm going to make myself something to eat. I don't offer her anything because she already had a sandwich.
Well, I just made myself some spicy noodles. I had just put it in the bowl when my MIL comes in to the kitchen with the baby crying and says "I can't calm her down. She needs a doctor's appointment or something." And hands her back to me. Then she quite literally takes my bowl and says "you going to eat all that?" But she took the fork and took a bite before I could even grab it back or answer. I'm absolutely repulsed at this point and pissed because I'm hungry, I was really craving the noodles AND it was my last package. I was visibly pissed. She asked what was wrong and I said "maybe the fact that you're fucking useless and have made my day ten times harder than it had to be and you just put your lips on my fucking fork. But hey, at least you ate and slept today." My husband had just come home so he heard what I had said and asked what was going on. I gave him the run down and I'm just crying at this point. She said that the day didn't play out the way I claimed and that I'm being overdramatic over a "cat nap" and her taking a "small bite" of my food and says she didn't have to help me at all. I screamed at her and said "you didn't fucking help me with anything!" And went in to my room with the baby, locking the door behind me. My husband literally texted me from the living room and said that his mother was old (62), had left crying and that I owe her an apology. AITA?

A few weeks ago I found out I was pregnant. I have only ever been with one person sexually and I have never been to an obgyn. Tomorrow is my first appointent and they have "US endovag ONLY" listed for my ultrasound on mycharts and I have been in panic mode ever since. I was kind of expecting it but having a stranger stick a wand in me or their fingers even or even just looking at me is a fear worse than death for me. Does anyone have any advice that would help me calm down a little or help me through it? my bf and I are going out to watch a movie and eat dinner after to distract me but i am still so terrified by the thought of someone looking at me or sticking something in me.
Everyone keeps telling me now that I am pregnant its not about me anymore and I know I have to go in for this ultrasound to make sure my baby is okay but it doesnt make it any less terrifying. Everyone tells me its not a big deal and downplays my emotions but god im mortified anf i dont know what to do. I guess wish me luck. a little overdramatic i guess but when i found out i sobbed and had a panic attack for an hour and a half. never been touched nonconsentually but for some reason people keep assuming this is my problem when i tell them im terrified. thank you all for your help!!
UPDATE i did it!! i hated it, i cried a little before. took me 10 minutes just to undress my bottom half. everything was fine except the gestational date they had was wrong compared to the size of the baby, which I already knew because i conceived during a late ovulation and they were going by my last period. I explained and now they are trying to force me to do another one for "viability" even though baby is okay and on track with my ovulation date. i tried to tell them no and they made me feel guilty because its "for the safety of the baby". i had my mom call because when they told me i had a panic attack bc i was told i wouldnt have to do it again. doc called me back anf said they arent sure if they can wait to do an abdominal scan but theyll try... not sure what to do but its okay i guess.

Slutty Sister Has Her Brother Locked For Life (non-con, forced chastity, bondage, punishment)
Part 1
The keyholder nurse gave me instructions and explained everything after it was all over. My family had told me that I was a sex pervert and I was "being dealt with". I knew I was in trouble, but I was a young man, only 18 and I didn't understand what was going on. No one had told me anything after the hearing.
Mom drove me to an odd building, led me to a secure room and left. A young nurse told me to undress. I was totally naked. An older woman in scrubs and a man entered. They strapped my arms and legs down to a cold steel table. The nurse offered the woman a syringe, but she declined and said "No, I want this creep to feel it".
It all started a month ago. I lived with my mom and sister, dad was gone. My sister was 19, with a tight body and medium sized, perky tits. Mom was thick, curvy, with giant tits. Both recently got their naval's pierced with matching studs. Neither had boyfriends, but they were very promiscuous. We lived in a mobile home with thin walls, so I could hear them getting fucked often.
I made some mistakes. First, my sister caught me peeping on her in the shower and told mom. Then, two of her "friends" came over for sex. They took turns on her. She got very loud. After they left, I went in her room. She covered herself, but I saw her pussy and stomach first. There were small puddles of cum around her pantyline, and some more of it leaking out of her. I told her I was still a virgin and asked if I could "go next" on her. She yelled "get out" and told mom when she got home from work.
The third incident was more serious they said. Mom would sometimes drink and pass out. I'd never felt tits before and hers were so enticing. She had some drinks and went to bed. I snuck in. She was asleep, uncovered, wearing a gown. I grabbed her heaving boobs. Then I took one of my hands off her chest and pulled the gown above her waist, exposing her. I slid my hand between her legs and rubbed her pussy. She woke up and caught me. She was pissed. The next day my sister told me they had turned me in and there would be a hearing.
So I knew why I was on the metal table, but I didn't know what was next. I couldn't see, there was a drape at my waist. It started with gloves and cold metal on my genitals, then clamping, pinching, pulling, and eventually a sharp puncturing pain near my balls. I begged them to stop, but they did it 2 more times, once on my cock. Finally a metal device was brought out. I could feel it being slid on, clamped down, tightened, then locked. "All done" they said and left. The young nurse stayed behind.
She removed the drape and released the straps. I inspected the "device". My cock and balls had been fed through a steel ring that tightly encircled them at the base. It was secured to a piercing just above my taint and another at the top. My penis was locked in a tight steel "cage" with a hole at the end for pissing. The head had been pierced and a metal bar went through me as extra security. It wasn't going anywhere. The whole thing was super tight.
"What is this?" I asked.
She explained. "It's your chastity device. Your genitals have been locked up. At the hearing, your mother and sister requested that you be put in chastity. The safety council asked them how long they thought would be appropriate and both wanted you locked forever. Since the incidents involved incest, the council agreed. Your penis is locked for life. I'm your keyholder nurse. I will help with adjustments, cleanings, draining your balls, and anything else needed for chastity".
"When do I get to take off?" I said.
She answered, "You're locked forever. So you wont get to take it off. They have to keep you locked so your sister is safe and to punish you for what you did to your mom. You wont be able to have sex or force anyone. Since you can't masturbate, your balls might swell, so you will see me every other month to drain them, do a deep cleaning, and tighten your cage, if necessary.
--------------------------------XXX--------------------------------

Part 2

The room was cold. My keyholder nurse was a cute twenty-something. A name tag with "Beverly" was pinned above her perky boobs. Her scrub top was tight around her chest. I could see the shape of her breasts and her hard nipples pressing againt the fabric. I stared and my cage got tighter. She noticed and grinned slightly.
I got back to business, "Can I appeal or get parole or something? What happens next?"
She answered, "Sorry, no appeals for chastity. There is parole, but not for incest cases. What you did is considered extremely disgusting, so they deemed you a "most extreme pervert". Incest offenders get more severe penalties and no parole. I'm not supposed to be judgemental, but you're my first incest case and it sounded really awful at your hearing. It's hard to believe creeps as bad as you even exist, who rubs their own mom's pussy? This case is really bad, so I'm gonna go harder on you than my other guys. I hope it was worth it. So here's what's next...your mother and sister are entitled to a final inspection of your genitals, then you'll go directly to prison to be processed and locked up in the chastity unit."
I was confused and responded with frustration, "I can't believe this is happening to me. I just got too horny seeing the girls dressed like sluts and listening to them getting fucked all the time. After seeing my sisters cum-filled pussy, I lost control and slipped up. If she just gave me sloppy seconds, I wouldn't have done all that to mom....What do you mean prison?!?!"
She responded, bursting with excitement, "Dont worry, you'll learn your lesson! OH! I see they didn't tell you about prison yet, since you were a rush case. Chastity is just an add-on to your prison sentence as an extra penalty and to keep everyone safe. Let me look at your file to see how much time you'll serve."
Looking at her tablet, she smiled big and replied, "I've never gotten to do this before! Most guys hear about their sentence before they get to me...Ok, so they actually got you taken care of pretty good here. It got split up into multiple counts, so fortunately, they were able to put you away for a long time."
She continued, "Your sister had you convicted on two charges, one for the shower incident and one for the bedroom incident. You got two more for mom, one for groping her tits and another for going between her legs. I'll read them off...
Count 1, Incestual peeping, sentence: 1 year special confinement
Count 2, Incestual peeping with propositioning, sentence: 1.5 years special confinement
Count 3, 2nd Degree Incestual Sexual Battery, 2 years special confinement
Ok and here's the big one! For touching mom's pussy...
Count 4, 1st Dregee Incestual Sexual Battery, 4.5 years RIGOROUS confinement in the SCU-I, (Special Chastity Unit, Incest wing), with intensive perversion correction."
So you'll do nine years total, with the first four-and-a-half in the incest wing."
I was completely shocked, "Nine years!? Are you serious? What's special confinement? Am I going to regular prison or what?
Beverely explained, "Special confinement means you'll be put in the chastity unit. It's a separate level for inmates that have their genitals locked, like rapists and other perverts. It's a little different. The cells are super small, you don't get any privileges like TV, and you stay locked in your cell for 23 hours a day. But don't worry. Most of my guys are in the chastity unit. They all want out really bad, but they're fine. Some eventually leave for regular population if their sentence allows, but you'll actually just be finishing up in the main chasity unit after you're done with rigororous confinement for the first four-and-a-half. You'll start off in the incest wing".
"What is all that? I asked
Beverly explained further, "It's a big deal. That's why I got so excited when I read your sentence on count 4. It wasn't just the amount of time you got, but what'll be happening to you that makes it a heavy one. I've heard it's very extreme. Since you're my first incest case, I'm not as familiar with it, but I've heard you're basically caged up 24/7 and pretty much treated like an animal. I'm not sure if you even get a toilet or a bed. You only leave your cage once every two weeks for perversion correction, which I might get to assist with, and you'll get another device I've heard about, called the "silver bullet". I think it's an anal device? You'll learn more about that when you get there. Oh! Looks like it's time to get you ready for inspection."
The door opened as she left and two female guards entered. One had a tazer. They led me to another table. This one had wheels. I sat on the edge. One grabbed my ankles and another tried to push me on my back. I resisted, trying to spin off the table. I was immediately tazed, then sedated, imobilizing me. "This will be easier for if you just comply" she said. I was on my back again. My ankles were lifted toward my head, folding my legs over me. Thick zip ties were placed around my ankles and calfs. My hands and forearms were looped through both, then "zzzzzzzztttt", it was all cinched down tight, securing my arms to my legs. A bar was secured between my knees, keeping me exposed. Beverly came back in. One of the guards said "He's all yours hon" as they left.
"Let's get you cleaned up" Beverly said. "Your mom and sister are on their way and they're excited to see your private parts all locked up for good.
She put gloves on, then approached the table, placing one hand over my nose. I opened my mouth and she shoved a gag in and secured it around my head. "This is just a temporary gag. Your sister didn't want you talking during inspection. I believe you'll get more securely gagged and muzzled when you get to processing. I've heard the guys don't get solid food in the incest wing, you get fed a liquid diet, like that soylent stuff, that you'll take through a drinking tube in your gag. It's really amazing how good they have you incest perverts locked up over there. I can't wait to see you like that.
She started the cleaning by soaping and lathering around my crotch, exposed parts were shaved. She walked away, coming back with a tube and a bag full of fluid that she hung from a pole. The label read "Enema". Beverly explained, "Gotta clean you inside and out. First I'll get you lubed up". She grabbed a metal syring, inserted the tip in my ass, and injected me with lube. At the end of enema tube, there was a detachable nozzle with two inflatable bulbs. One was forced in my ass and both were inflated, locking it in place. I could see the tube going from the bag to inside me. I felt like I was being treated like an animal already. She turned a valve, the fluid began flowing and filled me up. She set a timer for 35 minutes, and sat on her stool, reading cosmo. After an agonizing wait, she removed the nozzle plug, allowing me to release. Finally, thank goodness. I was soaped up again and rinsed. She cleaned up the enema nozzle plug, added more lube, and shoved it back1 inside me. "Putting this back in so we dont have any potential leaks" she said, as she inflated it. She disconnected the outside end of the inflatable nozzle where it attached to the longer enema tube, clamped it off, and let go of it. I felt it bounce around as it settled. "You're all set" she exclaimed.
I was wheeled on the cart-like table through a long, busy hallway to a different room for inspection. I could feel the protruding nozzle plug in my ass flop around as the cart moved. The other employees stared as I went by, a few smiled with satisfaction. How humiliating I thought. I heard murmuring. "Bitchtied pervert getting what he deserves!" one girl said angrily.
Finally in the inspection room, I waited. The door opened, Beverly entered with two blondes behind her, my mom and my sister. The two gorgeous sluts were dressed similar. My mom was wearing tight, denim, high waisted shorts that displayed her ass and curvy hips, they were pulled-up high in a way that you could see the denim tight against her twat. My sister came dressed in super short spandex yoga shorts, tight ones that lifted her already firm butt into perfection. Both wore crop tops with their stomachs and matching naval piercings exposed. Images of my sister's sloppy pussy flashed in my head, my cock and balls both swelled. I stared at their bodies and let out a loud, desperate moan as my cage grew excruciatingly tight.
Part 3 to follow...

So basically, i am living at my moms house, i went for the weekend at my dads and like an hour ago i finally got home and i decided to dress up.
I did put on a really cute and pretty outfit (it's my very first time dressing up) with green and pink colors. I wanted to go on our garden to spend some time outside with my plushie but- as soon as i was going to our back door, i realized my sister was at home the whole time (she has different dad than me and she usually is home way later than me).
And as soon as i saw her, i rushed up to our bathroom since it's the only room in our house, where you can lock yourself and she tried to get in, to see me. She gave it up after a while but, i felt and still feel somehow guilty and embarrassed.
I immediately got undressed and rushed to my room to hide all of my clothes.
And now i dunno what to do because i didn't realize how usafe it was and i can't really explain my feelings....
Any advices or something?

Terrified and scared.
I live in Los Angeles, California, United States, and whenever I get into my car, there is someone speaking through the car, and watching my every move, and almost stalking non-stop, harassing me. My mom and I were in the freeway, and a car drove in front of us, and stuck his middle finger at us, and then the person inside our car dashboard made a comment at him while we were in the car. Apparently, someone had stolen my family member's license plate and driven away with it. I hope it's not like "why are you going outdoors?"
I feel like I am in serious danger, and do not know what to do. I feel like throwing up. Helicopters hovered over our unit just this year several times, and even shone helicopter light on my feet when I stepped outside.
I do not know why but the individual speaking through our unit tells us about my cousin's boyfriend family vacation to "Mexico" and etc. I do not know why the individual speaking to me through the wall is harassing me in my own living room when i do not want anything to do with them! The boyfriend or husband wants to be a lawyer and was recently accepted into Law school. He seems very abusive.
I feel like I was watched while he was getting marriage contract with my family. He had two brothers and one sister. His mother was also present. His name is Anthony Gharibay-Garcia, 6'1 (his height). He had even recently bragged about his family member whose a doctor.
I told the police, and they said they found cameras in the bathroom of unit. Whenever I get undressed to shower, someone keeps talking through the walls. It makes me extremely uncomfortable. When I step outside of the house, others show me how I washed my hands, or how I showered naked. I am so helpless! I live in 6157 Coral Pink Circle, Woodland Hills, CA United States 91367.
A woman keeps talking through the unit walls, and again terrified on my life because I feel extremely uncomfortable. The harassment and annoyance won't stop. Someone records my audio and makes horrible reality of it. My family member's husband/boyfriend landlord passed away. My sister almost passed away from cancer. I lost my other grandparents recently because of COVID-19 too.
I have checked into a mental hospital because I could not physically take care of myself at all after the years of harassment. The tall 6'2 (his height) male nurses also harassed me there by whispering horrible things into my ears.
The individual speaking into our unit made inappropriate comments that are very malice like such as "your face" "your face" and now my dad has a tumor growing on his face. They are killing my dad too.
I feel so fearful. They keep calling my name, and then continuing harassment. They won't leave me alone. My grandmother and grandfather were both severely physically injured as a result by Anthony Gharibay-Garcia. 😩😩😩 I never consented to this. Someone feels like they can harass me is sickening!
Constantly harassing me saying "Sit back" and "sit back" for several years.
Someone hit my grandfather with a car once also. While sitting in my own bedroom, someone kept harassing me inside my own room making me feel very unsafe, and then when my grandfather went to walk around the unit, a dog bit his hand and made him severely bleed. The individual with a dog never came forward.
Somehow they record my voice in my own room, and then harass me outdoors when I walk past by screaming what I said indoors, and almost putting their hand on me. I have screamed leave me alone, I need a restraining order, and I do not feel comfortable.
I found a job, and the employees inside the workplace copied the face I made while inside my own room. Then they burned my hand. They acted very rudely and almost harassed me at the workplace by talking/yelling next door at me while I was in the other room. The employees work at 9765 Eaton Ave., Chatsworth, CA 91311
A tall Indian man 6'1 (his height) named after a prisoner Syed Z. from USC (a dentist with finished residency) matched with me on Sheytoon dating application, and then made taunting comments such as "you are graduating" and similar comments made while inside my own room while having sex with me, and raping or making me bleed from fingering me! He also hit me. I never told him that I am graduating from College. He had revealed that he had accessed my photos and all information on my phone device too illegally and should be fined or imprisoned for that. Someone is also speaking through my Mac computer audio!
My stomach is always so uneasy and growls. All of this has been sickening to my stomach and has upset me.
Then when I walked outside of his house, people harassed me more as when I was inside with him! The Syed man lives in 1247 Stoner Ave, Los Angeles, CA in Santa Monica. Syed has a sister and an older brother.
Afterwards, I sat with my family and said "See's candy" and then the same tall man posted "See's candy" snapchat while at his workplace. I never told my family about him.
When I go to the mall and make conversation, the same harassment is made when I get back home. The individual who worked at the mall repeated the same comments at me like "You went to the same high school as me?" His name is Behraz Ranjbari
For example, people ask what do you want to hear at the mall? and they all say the same thing: "Speak back"
I have experienced severe aggression and anger from others in public.
They whispered into the unit years ago and asked me to do the same request for them in El Camino Real high school. They watched me move in my own room, and then followed me on college campus harassing me, following me, and about to hit me by asking "why did you put my computer in your backup?" This is the same school that I am enrolled in in order to become a Lawyer for law school for American Board testing.
I told the campus police and made a police report about that too. I feel extremely vulnerable and so embarrassed! For example, if I am sitting in class, the same comment is made in the classroom session meeting as the comment made inside my own room in bad-mannered way. Someone is following me everywhere I go. 😭 Also, while studying in school and want to become pharmacist, a pharmacist woman with her two sons followed my car and hit us!
While in my own room with my mom, my professor / teacher re-acted the same actions I made while inside my own room. She failed me and did not help me succeed in school. My other professor's family members with tattoos also followed me when I was outdoors. Other students also made out the same actions I made while in my own room.
There are countless things that have traumatized me so far, I always feel like crying nonstop, and panicked.
One day I said "Life is so unfair" someone recorded that and when I stepped outside a lady said the same thing "life is so unfair." I feel horror-stuck!
When I am sitting in the car, and talking, I step outside to Sprouts grocery store, a man waits at the entrance door and repeats the same harassing comments while on car drive.
Another girl named Roxana Rambod follows me around and yells at me too while I am sitting in my own room. Stalker.
😭😭
I do not deserve this. I feel molested, hurt, and bruised.
I made several reports, and do not know what to do.
HELLLPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!
Thank you

Terrified and scared.
I live in Los Angeles, California, United States, and whenever I get into my car, there is someone speaking through the car, and watching my every move, and almost stalking non-stop, harassing me. My mom and I were in the freeway, and a car drove in front of us, and stuck his middle finger at us, and then the person inside our car dashboard made a comment at him while we were in the car. Apparently, someone had stolen my family member's license plate and driven away with it. I hope it's not like "why are you going outdoors?"
I feel like I am in serious danger, and do not know what to do. I feel like throwing up. Helicopters hovered over our unit just this year several times, and even shone helicopter light on my feet when I stepped outside.
I do not know why but the individual speaking through our unit tells us about my cousin's boyfriend family vacation to "Mexico" and etc. I do not know why the individual speaking to me through the wall is harassing me in my own living room when i do not want anything to do with them! The boyfriend or husband wants to be a lawyer and was recently accepted into Law school. He seems very abusive.
I feel like I was watched while he was getting marriage contract with my family. He had two brothers and one sister. His mother was also present. His name is Anthony Gharibay-Garcia, 6'1 (his height). He had even recently bragged about his family member whose a doctor.
I told the police, and they said they found cameras in the bathroom of unit. Whenever I get undressed to shower, someone keeps talking through the walls. It makes me extremely uncomfortable. When I step outside of the house, others show me how I washed my hands, or how I showered naked. I am so helpless! I live in 6157 Coral Pink Circle, Woodland Hills, CA United States 91367.
A woman keeps talking through the unit walls, and again terrified on my life because I feel extremely uncomfortable. The harassment and annoyance won't stop. Someone records my audio and makes horrible reality of it. My family member's husband/boyfriend landlord passed away. My sister almost passed away from cancer. I lost my other grandparents recently because of COVID-19 too.
I have checked into a mental hospital because I could not physically take care of myself at all after the years of harassment. The tall 6'2 (his height) male nurses also harassed me there by whispering horrible things into my ears.
The individual speaking into our unit made inappropriate comments that are very malice like such as "your face" "your face" and now my dad has a tumor growing on his face. They are killing my dad too.
I feel so fearful. They keep calling my name, and then continuing harassment. They won't leave me alone. My grandmother and grandfather were both severely physically injured as a result by Anthony Gharibay-Garcia. 😩😩😩 I never consented to this. Someone feels like they can harass me is sickening!
Constantly harassing me saying "Sit back" and "sit back" for several years.
Someone hit my grandfather with a car once also. While sitting in my own bedroom, someone kept harassing me inside my own room making me feel very unsafe, and then when my grandfather went to walk around the unit, a dog bit his hand and made him severely bleed. The individual with a dog never came forward.
Somehow they record my voice in my own room, and then harass me outdoors when I walk past by screaming what I said indoors, and almost putting their hand on me. I have screamed leave me alone, I need a restraining order, and I do not feel comfortable.
I found a job, and the employees inside the workplace copied the face I made while inside my own room. Then they burned my hand. They acted very rudely and almost harassed me at the workplace by talking/yelling next door at me while I was in the other room. The employees work at 9765 Eaton Ave., Chatsworth, CA 91311
A tall Indian man 6'1 (his height) named after a prisoner Syed Z. from USC (a dentist with finished residency) matched with me on Sheytoon dating application, and then made taunting comments such as "you are graduating" and similar comments made while inside my own room while having sex with me, and raping or making me bleed from fingering me! He also hit me. I never told him that I am graduating from College. He had revealed that he had accessed my photos and all information on my phone device too illegally and should be fined or imprisoned for that. Someone is also speaking through my Mac computer audio!
My stomach is always so uneasy and growls. All of this has been sickening to my stomach and has upset me.
Then when I walked outside of his house, people harassed me more as when I was inside with him! The Syed man lives in 1247 Stoner Ave, Los Angeles, CA in Santa Monica. Syed has a sister and an older brother.
Afterwards, I sat with my family and said "See's candy" and then the same tall man posted "See's candy" snapchat while at his workplace. I never told my family about him.
When I go to the mall and make conversation, the same harassment is made when I get back home. The individual who worked at the mall repeated the same comments at me like "You went to the same high school as me?" His name is Behraz Ranjbari
For example, people ask what do you want to hear at the mall? and they all say the same thing: "Speak back"
I have experienced severe aggression and anger from others in public.
They whispered into the unit years ago and asked me to do the same request for them in El Camino Real high school. They watched me move in my own room, and then followed me on college campus harassing me, following me, and about to hit me by asking "why did you put my computer in your backup?" This is the same school that I am enrolled in in order to become a Lawyer for law school for American Board testing.
I told the campus police and made a police report about that too. I feel extremely vulnerable and so embarrassed! For example, if I am sitting in class, the same comment is made in the classroom session meeting as the comment made inside my own room in bad-mannered way. Someone is following me everywhere I go. 😭 Also, while studying in school and want to become pharmacist, a pharmacist woman with her two sons followed my car and hit us!
While in my own room with my mom, my professor / teacher re-acted the same actions I made while inside my own room. She failed me and did not help me succeed in school. My other professor's family members with tattoos also followed me when I was outdoors. Other students also made out the same actions I made while in my own room.
There are countless things that have traumatized me so far, I always feel like crying nonstop, and panicked.
One day I said "Life is so unfair" someone recorded that and when I stepped outside a lady said the same thing "life is so unfair." I feel horror-stuck!
When I am sitting in the car, and talking, I step outside to Sprouts grocery store, a man waits at the entrance door and repeats the same harassing comments while on car drive.
Another girl named Roxana Rambod follows me around and yells at me too while I am sitting in my own room. Stalker.
😭😭
I do not deserve this. I feel molested, hurt, and bruised.
I made several reports, and do not know what to do.
HELLLPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!
Thank you

Terrified and scared.
I live in Los Angeles, California, United States, and whenever I get into my car, there is someone speaking through the car, and watching my every move, and almost stalking non-stop, harassing me. My mom and I were in the freeway, and a car drove in front of us, and stuck his middle finger at us, and then the person inside our car dashboard made a comment at him while we were in the car. Apparently, someone had stolen my family member's license plate and driven away with it. I hope it's not like "why are you going outdoors?"
I feel like I am in serious danger, and do not know what to do. I feel like throwing up. Helicopters hovered over our unit just this year several times, and even shone helicopter light on my feet when I stepped outside.
I do not know why but the individual speaking through our unit tells us about my cousin's boyfriend family vacation to "Mexico" and etc. I do not know why the individual speaking to me through the wall is harassing me in my own living room when i do not want anything to do with them! The boyfriend or husband wants to be a lawyer and was recently accepted into Law school. He seems very abusive.
I feel like I was watched while he was getting marriage contract with my family. He had two brothers and one sister. His mother was also present. His name is Anthony Gharibay-Garcia, 6'1 (his height). He had even recently bragged about his family member whose a doctor.
I told the police, and they said they found cameras in the bathroom of unit. Whenever I get undressed to shower, someone keeps talking through the walls. It makes me extremely uncomfortable. When I step outside of the house, others show me how I washed my hands, or how I showered naked. I am so helpless! I live in 6157 Coral Pink Circle, Woodland Hills, CA United States 91367.
A woman keeps talking through the unit walls, and again terrified on my life because I feel extremely uncomfortable. The harassment and annoyance won't stop. Someone records my audio and makes horrible reality of it. My family member's husband/boyfriend landlord passed away. My sister almost passed away from cancer. I lost my other grandparents recently because of COVID-19 too.
I have checked into a mental hospital because I could not physically take care of myself at all after the years of harassment. The tall 6'2 (his height) male nurses also harassed me there by whispering horrible things into my ears.
The individual speaking into our unit made inappropriate comments that are very malice like such as "your face" "your face" and now my dad has a tumor growing on his face. They are killing my dad too.
I feel so fearful. They keep calling my name, and then continuing harassment. They won't leave me alone. My grandmother and grandfather were both severely physically injured as a result by Anthony Gharibay-Garcia. 😩😩😩 I never consented to this. Someone feels like they can harass me is sickening!
Constantly harassing me saying "Sit back" and "sit back" for several years.
Someone hit my grandfather with a car once also. While sitting in my own bedroom, someone kept harassing me inside my own room making me feel very unsafe, and then when my grandfather went to walk around the unit, a dog bit his hand and made him severely bleed. The individual with a dog never came forward.
Somehow they record my voice in my own room, and then harass me outdoors when I walk past by screaming what I said indoors, and almost putting their hand on me. I have screamed leave me alone, I need a restraining order, and I do not feel comfortable.
I found a job, and the employees inside the workplace copied the face I made while inside my own room. Then they burned my hand. They acted very rudely and almost harassed me at the workplace by talking/yelling next door at me while I was in the other room. The employees work at 9765 Eaton Ave., Chatsworth, CA 91311
A tall Indian man 6'1 (his height) named after a prisoner Syed Z. from USC (a dentist with finished residency) matched with me on Sheytoon dating application, and then made taunting comments such as "you are graduating" and similar comments made while inside my own room while having sex with me, and raping or making me bleed from fingering me! He also hit me. I never told him that I am graduating from College. He had revealed that he had accessed my photos and all information on my phone device too illegally and should be fined or imprisoned for that. Someone is also speaking through my Mac computer audio!
My stomach is always so uneasy and growls. All of this has been sickening to my stomach and has upset me.
Then when I walked outside of his house, people harassed me more as when I was inside with him! The Syed man lives in 1247 Stoner Ave, Los Angeles, CA in Santa Monica. Syed has a sister and an older brother.
Afterwards, I sat with my family and said "See's candy" and then the same tall man posted "See's candy" snapchat while at his workplace. I never told my family about him.
When I go to the mall and make conversation, the same harassment is made when I get back home. The individual who worked at the mall repeated the same comments at me like "You went to the same high school as me?" His name is Behraz Ranjbari
For example, people ask what do you want to hear at the mall? and they all say the same thing: "Speak back"
I have experienced severe aggression and anger from others in public.
They whispered into the unit years ago and asked me to do the same request for them in El Camino Real high school. They watched me move in my own room, and then followed me on college campus harassing me, following me, and about to hit me by asking "why did you put my computer in your backup?" This is the same school that I am enrolled in in order to become a Lawyer for law school for American Board testing.
I told the campus police and made a police report about that too. I feel extremely vulnerable and so embarrassed! For example, if I am sitting in class, the same comment is made in the classroom session meeting as the comment made inside my own room in bad-mannered way. Someone is following me everywhere I go. 😭 Also, while studying in school and want to become pharmacist, a pharmacist woman with her two sons followed my car and hit us!
While in my own room with my mom, my professor / teacher re-acted the same actions I made while inside my own room. She failed me and did not help me succeed in school. My other professor's family members with tattoos also followed me when I was outdoors. Other students also made out the same actions I made while in my own room.
There are countless things that have traumatized me so far, I always feel like crying nonstop, and panicked.
One day I said "Life is so unfair" someone recorded that and when I stepped outside a lady said the same thing "life is so unfair." I feel horror-stuck!
When I am sitting in the car, and talking, I step outside to Sprouts grocery store, a man waits at the entrance door and repeats the same harassing comments while on car drive.
Another girl named Roxana Rambod follows me around and yells at me too while I am sitting in my own room. Stalker.
😭😭
I do not deserve this. I feel molested, hurt, and bruised.
I made several reports, and do not know what to do.
HELLLPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!
Thank you

So Hello everyone here !! This is my first time here. I (21M) am a student from a well known NIT in India. So I happen to have a gf(now 21F) at 2022. She was not exactly my gf in the first place. What she mentioned was something like F.W.B but I was too dumb at that time to understand that. Then later while we went on I don't know y maybe the fact that she was the first girl in my whole life who taught me more things talked with me more open (I am from a small town where girls won't talk that much to a boy) also the added fact that she is my everything (I'm Still a VIRGIN, if u can get it). The thing was I was too much of a beta, it is hard to accept that but that is the truth. example if she asks where we can go i'll let it be her choice, in my mind i was only doing things she likes. I'll be there everyday to meet her if she needed. She'll blabber everything to me and I'll listen (I'm not an extrovert like her so i did not have those much interactions as her). She also had a boy bestie at that time, yeah I know I started learning my lesson from there. She told me she started talking to me becoz my voice matched that of her boy bestie when we were on a online meeting and that time both had apparantly fought. I constantly told her I'mm not ok with him he might have other intentions but she assured and told me "I ONLY SEE HIM AS A BROTHER". I'll be honest , we were 3.5 months into that so called relationship and she never gave me any signs like this was a F.W.B one day i decided to propose her, so i cooked food from my hostel(its illegal still i did) then i went to meet her got on one knee and proposed she was very overjoyed and said yes thats how i confirmed she is in love with me(silly me). Also I never satisfied her in any means, according to her she was a patient (some tissue injury) so she never felt satisfied. All changed at December 4 i finally satisfied her(STILL A VIRGIN) and she dropped the bomb telling me - "We can break up and remain friends, I'm too afraid my father will find out bla bla..." I asked y not tell earlier and y now? she said " I wanted u to satisfy me, I would have done the same if u would have satisfied me any earlier" I was too in shock but stupid me wanted her. She told me we will still marry after college dont worry. Part of my still was ok as long she was my friend and i will convince her one day. After that we had end sems and I had 4 F's .
After going to home we spoke everyday. On one day roughly into 1.5 weeks into holidays she went on a date with that boy bestie(she did not say that but that was a date) now a past of that boy bestie he was the typical playboy according to her. He had a gf with whom he broke up right after having intimacy she mentioned how much of a playboy and bad boy he was who drank smoked and did drugs . He was a rich asshole both parents had nice income. I'll ask y not breakup then she'll say "he is my first boy best friend just like how I am to u" Silly me trusted and believed her. The current gf he was dating at that time was a rich one but not so good one according to him and recollecting those memories now she(my ex gf) was just jealous of that gf(boy bestie's) everytime she blabbered about their combo. He admitted himself that he was with her only fr her money to my ex gf and that his father was also supporting this. That asshole was studying in bhopal. Now I know most of u are already frustrated with me , thinking i am a joker and a clown seeing obvious red flags not breaking up with her. But please try to understand this was my first ever girl best friend and girl friend and my first ever relationship with any girl other than my mother(i dont have any siblings) my mom is from village so she always thought me to respect and be kind to girls so i always had a soft corner for any girl(Now i definitelly dont have one).
So she goes on that date and just tells how much of the date is that i simply get frustrated and change the topic. Now the very next day she fought with me in texts and said I have no exposure I never satisfied her, I'm not enough for her she want toxic boys who drink all those shit. I cannot believe those things this was not the girl i knew(or so i thought). That day started my sleep problems (which i have till today). Still with the clown mentality i spoke with her very next day inquiring her day she gave cold answers and day by day convo decreased. I had a gift for her which i already bought as a new yr present it was her small child photo with a qr to her fav song which she and her late grandfather used to listen. i just showed that to her in new yr and she was happy told me i still have a friend. I was still a fool and believed that. But the next day she told me she did the deed with her boy bestie and was saying she wanted to tell this to me. She was more excited to tell the fact that he undressed her in 3 seconds and told her how he wanted to be inside her back from when he was still at college in Bhopal . I simply asked y and abt the promise of her and me getting married after college all those but she straight up denied telling that and told me "I would have told that when i was in a happy mood how can i trust that...." i asked u told me he is like ur brotherr.... she was just silent then smiled and told me "Here after don't believe city girls".
After that the next sem was a full mess i could not forget her i blabbered to my friends about her . They listened everything and was a support to me. I had sleep issues i lost around 7 kgs and had attendance shortage in every course.
What made me come here is I have a friend who is in relationship with one of her friends/ I apparantly sometimes talk with that friend just hi, how r u , bye...
He spilled to me that the friend told him that she was planning to sleep with that boy bestie from the moment he came back in her life (after their fight) and also with me. When mine failed miserably (if i could not satisfy her in simple things then how in real things according to her). She went and did it with him. This thing both furiated and saddened me for a very large bit.
Some details about her: For a context she is a bit obese , i have met her father once and as per her he is the one that gives all this independence to her. When i mean independence not this cheating (i'm not sure though that man seemed very sketchy) but this modern thoughts hanging around going and having fun all the boys , according to him if she spends time only with girls then she is a lesbian that iswhat she told me. Her mother is a decent village woman who tries to crct her but of no use.
Now if u all have come this far most u are either pissed at my foolishness and some of u might be laughing and I acknowledge them I was indeed a beta simp with her. Now i forgot abt her for past 7 months till this was mentioned by him. Now i wanna get revenge and i need ideas pretty sure telling this to her father will do nothing so I need some plan and before u guys tell anything
I'm a normal looking dude with a bit fair tone and have no experience with girls after my ex i went through all stages grief, anger, sorrow , all girls are like these.... and i met one girl she was innocent did not have insta(not that this means innocent but thought in 2022 if a girl has no insta then she is diiferent) but she is i dont know whether worse than my ex but definittely equal to her. This girl will only speak with boys who are either manipulators who will manipulate her or with boys who have above 7.7 or 8.0 CGPA. I blocked her at may 2023 and still it is in that state. Then only i realised in this college no matter ur character girls must have interest in u and in ur way of speaking. Even if u drink and have a CGPA of 6.00 u can still get laid if u have game to speak with her, As for me I have no game neither did i drink. Yeah in my breakup stage i was heartbroken with no intention to sleep neither read but i did not touch alcohol or cigar many of the students here have them so it is easy to access but my mother did not raise me to be a loser who will simply drink to forget things and wake up next day to the same problems, that's not the way my mother grew me up I needed to face it and I did and here I am in Reddit for the first time asking u guys a help.
If some of u think that getting revenge is bad then remember there is another pure good hearted boy that will be potentially destroyed by her. I dont think i am a pure good hearted one now. I was before my ex. Now i only treat my friends with good hearts other i dont simply dont care and dont judge them. That's all I want to say. If u have any advice or any thing feel free to share. If u want to tell in the comments that i was joker it is fine go ahead that is the truth i was that clown and im trying to do things so that i can never be that guy, ur point of view is also appreciated, Thank u for reading my story all the way through!!!.

I (25f) am a Mexican immigrant who crossed the border illegally to marry someone I didn’t know for the sole purpose of the opportunity to give me and my family citizenship, for some background. My family and I lived in Mexico all our lives up until I was 18 I worked at a gas station close to the border, I was never paid enough to help my family to at least live ok there were days were we didn’t have enough food for all of us so I would go days with out eating. We were very poor. One afternoon my mom runs into an old friend at the Mercado which is like a street filled with lots of vendors, apparently they went to high school together and ended up losing contact after her friend moved to the US, in the midst of catching up they touched several topics which didn’t interest me in the moment because I was busy shopping. After they said there goodbyes I saw my mom went silent the rest of the trip, which worried me and I ended asking her what was up, she then told me that her friend’s husband was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer and doesn’t have much time left, I told her sorry to hear that then she mentioned something that creeped me out a bit , she mentioned that her friend noticed how I looked wife material doing all the shopping. I said that was silly and just brushed it off, little did I know that was only the beginning of the rest of my life.
A few Months later my mom and dad sat me down to have a talk with me, they said it was entirely my choice but that they know they couldn’t give me. The life I needed and wanted living here so they opened up and explained to me that my moms friend was also diagnosed with cancer and she was far along as well the doctors couldn’t do much and she was worried because she had a son who she was going to leave behind and wanted to see him get married before she went so he was “taken care of”. I was shocked to say the least and hurt I said I needed time, they understood and said they need to give an answer back soon. I barged out of that room and went for a walk. Why me? I thought over and over, doesn’t he have a girlfriend? Or someone in mind? And he’s just cool with this? I’m barely 18 wtf? I calmed down and thought to myself ok well I need to help my family out no matter the sacrifice, I was uncomfortable but I came back and agreed, for my family.
Soon I met a coyote (a person who crosses illegally people over the border) he got me and my family across the border and into a safe shelter where we waited on my mom’s friend to pick us up and take us to her home. She had a 2 story home with a huge backyard and a guest house, that’s where we stayed. We got settled in and cleaned up I took a hot shower and got ready to meet my soon to be husband. At dinner I was nervous and my hands were sweaty, my soon to be husband entered to room, I just thought well no wonder he doesn’t have a girlfriend this dude looks homeless!! He had a rugged beard long tangled hair and looked like he hasn’t showered in months!! Dinner was bland nothing interesting happened nor did we talk to each other our moms introduced us but that was the end of it. After dinner his mom walked us back into the guest house and opened up to us that he was extremely shy and only concentrates on work he’s a welder for a big company who works on pipes and trucks, so that’s why he looked dirty. “He’s been working nonstop these last years after his dad was diagnosed so he hasn’t quit nor does he have time for women”. She then excused her self and in my mind I thought wtf I’m getting married to a hobo.
My wedding was only a day away now and this whole time I haven’t even spoken to my soon to be husband nor seen him. He was always at work, I went dress shopping, did all the ok’s for the wedding I guess he was just gonna show up and boom and he did, but not looking totally horrible, he got a haircut and shaved his beard, but kept the mustache he looked presentable I guess. After the ceremony and the party we headed to a hotel and in the morning we Were going to go on our honeymoon, on the way to the hotel it was quiet and I was nervous, I was a virgen and have never been with a guy, my parents were very strict. When we arrived he gave me a key to a room and said that he will see me in the morning, he had gotten a room just for me. That morning I gathered my things and headed to our honeymoon destination where again he bought me a room to myself and I enjoyed a week long vacation alone. Once we were back, I had found out he bought a house for us, my mother in law and mom had furnished it while we were gone. When we entered the home he told me to get comfortable and meet him in the guest room, I got nervous again but still obeyed him, I entered the room and he motioned for me to sit on a chair in front of him, he then proceeded to talk. He said that his main concern was his work, if ever needed anything I could ask for it and he would try his best to give it to me, he then mentioned that he won’t touch me or force me to do anything I don’t want to, he doesn’t expect that out of me, all he asks is for home cooked meals and a clean house, he also mentioned that the main bedroom is mine and I can do whatever I wanted in that room, any concern or problem he has he would consult me if needed, after he was done he asked if I had any questions. I asked if he could look into getting my parents citizenship as well, he then reassured me that he would look into that, I also mentioned that I would like for him to be groomed more often and did some self care, he agreed. That was our deal for 1 year and a half
One afternoon he came in and said he needed to talk to me. I sat down with him and he began saying that I have been doing a good job and he likes living with me but that now man urges are getting to him. I instantly started shaking and told him that I was still a virgin and I have never been with a man before, he was shocked and said he understood, I suggested that he could relieve himself or if he wants to take another woman he could or he could watch videos. He immediately shut those ideas down and said that his mom raised him better than to disrespect his wife, he wanted to compromise, he asked if I could undress and he would relieve himself to my body, but that he wouldn’t touch me, I hesitated but agreed that night he gave me some lingerie to wear and a beautiful robe, I put them on and headed to his room. I opened the door and he was on a chair across the room, he asked if I could undress and listen to his commands I agreed as long as he didn’t touch me he promised and I proceeded to undress, I started to hear him moan and relieve himself then he asked me to get on the bed and to show him my parts, I did, then he asked me to get into certain positions and I did, I did everything I asked until he came. He cleaned up and said thank you to me and escorted me to the room and ran me a hot bath. This kept happening every night for about 4 months and after every night he would take care of me, eventually I started to feel confident and sexy and I got better and better at it and slowly I began falling for him, I noticed his chiseled shoulders, his big hands, his rugged face but yet he was gentle and respectful. I wanted to please him more so I saw some videos on how it’s done everything.
That night I got the courage to approach him while he was relieving himself and went down on him he was shocked and asked if this is what I wanted I nodded and proceeded, with every moan and movement I wanted more and more of him, I took his hand and walked him to the bed, he kept asking if I was sure and if I was ok with this I nodded and positioned my self for him he then began entering and it started to hurt a lot, he talked me through it and said it was gonna hurt for a while but eventually I would feel good, he kept going and it started feeling better we ended up climaxing together and he cleaned me up and slept next to me, the next day he asked for the day off and cooked me breakfast and took it to our bed, he is a wonder man. After that night every night we would sleep together and have sex, until my sex drive started to build and I just couldn’t get enough of him while he was at work I just thought constantly of him and as soon as he walked in the door I would jump on him and we would have sex, he became a drug to me and that brings us to the present! I am now 3 months pregnant with our first child and to me he is still the most loving man and the most addictive person I have ever met. I just wanted to put my story out there.

I apologize. This will be long. We're not seeking medical advice. I have an appointment with a pediatrician to discuss getting a referral to a developmental center for evaluation. I guess I just need to vent my concerns and worries. I'm on mobile, so I apologize for any formatting issues.
My husband (28M) and I (27F)often described our son (2.5) as a feral cat, he'd much rather be seen from a distance than touched, from the time he was a year old. Once he warmed up to an adult, then he was sweet as can be and is very affectionate. He'll pass out all sorts of hugs, kisses, cuddles, and face touching with lots of eye contact. He's never been interested in other kids. He won't play with other kids or allow them in his personal space. He's not mean about it or a bully, at least according to his teachers, he would rather be in his own world or hang out with an adult. So much so that he will resort to hitting if he can't get away from his classmates. We have a 2 month old, and he has yet to get closer than 2 feet to her. If you place her near him, he will cry and run. We don't push it, but everyone in our lives is surprised he hasn't "cracked" yet and at least attempted to touch her or sit next to her.
Around 12 months old, I noticed his speech slowly regressed. He went from saying multiple words clearly to eventually nothing by 18 months. He wouldn't even babble and would go days not even making a sound. We read no less than 5 books a day (he LOVES books), used sign language, and we talked to him/ tried to make conversation pretty regularly, and it didn't seem to matter. It concerned me, and family and friends all said he'd have to talk eventually and that it wasn't a big deal. According to my MIL, my husband didn’t speak until he was in kindergarten and figured my son was the same way. Eventually I begged the pediatrician for a referral for a speech evaluation and hearing test, as I'm very aware of the benefits of early intervention, which resulted in a speech delay diagnosis, and allowed us to get him into speech therapy twice a week at his daycare. He babbles all the time and can say 3 words now, thankfully. He's been in speech for about 10 months now. While we couldn't get his hearing test done, the evaluator said she knows he can hear us, due to his body language when we say his name or talk to him, but is choosing to ignore us.
I've always thought my son was a little different but in some ways also a typical toddler. I swear he survives off of water, dairy products, bread, eggs, and Bluey. In no certain order. He definitely has food preferences, and certain food textures are a no-go. The list of foods he does like has gotten smaller and smaller. We still try to offer him a variety which consists of what we're eating plus one item we know he'll eat. No luck, but we'll keep going. We don't draw attention to foods, force, beg, or make him a separate meal with only things he'll eat. When he doesn't eat something and gets up from the table, we just trash it and put the plate away. Recently his speech therapist observed him during breakfast at daycare and saw how intense his preferences can be, going as far as to get crumbs off the floor, out of the dust pan, or trash if it's something he likes and he's still hungry. To curve the behavior, because obviously it's gross and we don't want him sick from it, the facility has allowed me to bring him his favorite cereal so they can give that to him in addition to breakfast if he's still hungry or to at least keep him in his chair while his classmates finish.
He has intense meltdowns. Not tantrums. Meltdowns. And "intense" was the word his daycare director used to describe them recently when she called to originally discuss my son's eating habits at daycare and I happened to ask if there was any other concerning behaviors. I guess sometimes it's bad enough that they have to pull him from class and into the director's office until he settles, which was news to me. She did say it has been a few weeks since they've had to do that. It can be anything, for the most part, that sets him off. The vehicle stops moving, and he will thrash in his car seat and try to throw himself around in it. At home, he'll grab anything he can and throw it until it breaks, then proceed to get more upset and find the next item. We typically know it's coming and get things out of his reach, leaving him with items that are safe to throw around. He'll throw himself into furniture and onto the ground. If you try to talk to him or touch him during it, it makes it 10x worse and essentially starts the fit over. We don't allow him to hit us or throw things at us and he knows we will get up and leave the area if he tries, so he doesn't bother to do either. We've resorted to ignoring it and waiting it out, even if it's 30 minutes. The longest meltdown I've seen was an hour. We will sit next to him or in the same room and let him lose it until he settles himself down/gets tired. Really I just hold space for him and try to demonstrate being calm, no matter how stressed out i feel during it. Sometimes my husband will try to distract him from it, because he can't stand to hear him cry and scream, but mainly I'm the one who deals with it. Once he's done, we'll try to have a talk about it with him but I'm not sure he even understands. But I keep trying. I feel like we're doing the best we can, but most of the time I feel lost. He's strong-willed and assertive, and I never want to dim his personality, but maybe reel it in sometimes.
He loves his books, got a huge bookcase dedicated to his collection, magnetic tiles that he stacks in rows, cars that he likes to watch the wheels roll or check out its parts, and whatever little treasures he finds. He has to have his hands full at all times. At daycare he seeks out Mr. Potato Head's parts and carries them in his hands all day. For 8 hours. Will absolutely not set it down. He does the same thing with straws, rocks, or sticks. He kinda picks an item everyday as his favorite treasure and that's that. One day he had a broken piece off of a toy and wouldn't let it go for 48 hours. I finally snuck it away while he was getting undressed for a bath. He doesn't pretend play or play with toys in the traditional sense. He likes to carry them around and that's about it.
With all these little quirks in mind that I already knew of and with his daycare administrators becoming concerned enough to call me to discuss his odd behaviors, I decided it was time to reach out to professionals and make sure we're not missing something. The daycare teachers will keep a journal of any behaviors I should be aware of, but they felt a trip to the ped may be a bit soon. I disagree and would rather be told I'm just a silly new mom than push issues off. I truly hope he's just a typical picky eater with big feelings, and I'm just looking into it too closely. At the same time, if he receives a diagnosis of something, like Autism for example, I want to be able to gather all the tools I can to help him thrive and cope. He's brave, independent, loving, and silly, and he'll always be my perfect little boy. I just don't want to leave any stones unturned if it means it can benefit him.
I hope someone out there can relate. Maybe offer a pat on the back or solidarity. We see the pediatrician tomorrow and hopefully a trip to the developmental center soon.

So I (14F) currently live my mother (36F), step-dad (37M), older brother(17M) and younger half-sister (9F). The problem is though that mine and my sister's room doesn't have a door and my room is placed in a way where if you stood on the stairs you have a clear view into the room. This has led to multiple family members seeing me in some state of undress and a few times the family I live with have seen me naked and this makes me very uncomfortable.
The door was removed a few years ago due to rotting and hasn't been replaced by anything since due to my mom and step-dad saying that it makes it quicker and easier for them to get to my half-sister (I share a room with her and always have). I'm quite picky about my privacy usually but because of the lack of door I always feel over cautious that someone will see me in a state of undress.
I don't know how to go about asking for a door though as we're not very well off financially as a household and I believe that my mom and step-dad are going through something in their relationship (step-dad hasn't slept in the house for a few days now and is mostly at work during the day) and my mom currently suffering with some sort of intense back injury of sorts (it's been months and doctors still aren't able to diagnose). So I come here to reddit to ask how I can bring this up with my mom and step-dad?