Birthday dad in heaven

When I was 2 my dad video taped my half sister naked in the bathroom without her knowing. My mom found out and of course left him. He paid off jail for a long time until I was 11 and he went to jail for 8 months. My dad really struggles with mental health I think and I’m the only thing he has. I love him because he’s my father but my sister is also my best friend and so important to me. It makes me uncomfortable cause I’m also a girl and my sister was young when it happened. I’m in college now and live with my mom with visits to my dad. I feel guilty cause I truly am all he has but it’s hard to deal with everything that has happened along with his sometimes difficult mental health issues. My mom is also my best friend but she regularly argues with me about everything in my life and I’m starting to become miserable. I go to college far so all my friends are far away and the only thing I really have in my hometown other than family and work is my boyfriend that I grew up with for 11 years. We grew up best friends and then we dated and it has been on and off for 4 years now. He also has suffered with mental health throughout our relationship and I always did my best to be there. He is always the one to leave me and he always has an excuse but quickly goes to other girls. He has 2 girl friends that he chose to stop talking to when we started dating and I didn’t question it. Then he started talking to them behind my back and it made me uncomfortable. They always text him even when we’re fully together without breaking up for over a year and just don’t respect me. They didn’t start texting him until the one broke up with her boyfriend which also makes me uncomfortable because she didn’t care when she had a boyfriend so why would she put me through that with mine? The first time we broke up I ended up being pregnant and during that he would leave me for those girls and a bunch of other girls along with dating apps. I went through the ab0rt1on alone a week before my birthday and my mom ended up finding out and hated him for it. The week after my birthday he told me he had cancer which was a lie but i believed him and started talking to him again. Currently he broke up with me the day before leaving for my past semester in college but throughout would text me and try to see me so i knew when i came back home he would try to talk to me. I love this guy i feel like ill never find anything like the connection i have with him and i cant let go. There are always other girls at this point and now when i ask him about the other girls he leaves me on open instead of reassuring me but my stupid self still wants to believe there isn’t anyone else. My dad texts me nonstop about seeing me and I feel guilty for not being there as often but then my mom also makes me feel guilty for not being with her all of the time but if I’m not perfect for my boyfriend and there whenever he possibly needs me then he will use it as a reason to leave me and to tell me I’m not worth staying. I can never be happy alone because I feel like someone always needs something from me or my boyfriend is doing something behind my back or someone is yelling at me for not being good enough. For the past year I have began to truly struggle with my mental health and I keep trying to find a bright side but at this point there isn’t one. I feel like people only use me for things and I always end up alone. Even my far away friends don’t exactly feel like true friends because I always feel left out. I’m just tired but I don’t want to end my life because I still feel like god has more for me but I’m so young and already hopeless

For some context - I (30f) am chronically ill and have to live at home because of how sick I am and how I’m unable to consistently work. Through this time, a lot of my friends have “forgotten” about me and only message when they need something from myself or my Dad. Living with my Dad, it’s easy to ask him if he wants to do something like go to a flea market or go to the grocery store. We typically get along really well, but I often get annoyed with how I get treated compared to my brother and cousins. My mom passed away a long time before and I still have trauma I’m processing from her death and how she treated me and my (basically adopted) sister vs my sibling/“adopted” male siblings/cousins that were boys.
This past Wednesday, I asked him if he had plans for Sunday and when he said no, I asked if he wanted to go the antique market. He said yes, but I still asked a couple of more times through out the week to make sure.
I even asked yesterday if he still wanted to go, asking if there was anywhere else he wanted to go. He said no and we went about our days.
Last night, he comes in and mentions something my brother mentioned to him and I know it’s something he’d rather go to, so I said he should go to that instead. I tell him it’s no biggie, to go and enjoy himself. I was hurt, but the antique market happens every month. Then, he hits me with the “I’d rather go to this other antique market instead anyways.”
I just shut down, because he knew how I always felt about asking people to do stuff with me, because they always complained they’d “rather do x anyways…”
This all comes after a big disagreement last summer, when I asked if we could eat somewhere that had outside eating for my birthday. This is how we’ve always celebrated birthdays since we’ve become adults. No gifts, just go to dinner where the birthday person wants to eat. I didn’t even care where we ate, I just wanted to sit outside. Of course, none of my family wanted to do this, so we didn’t. The previous month we went to a buffet (I often can’t eat or can’t eat much, but bit the bullet on the $20 buffet price and never complained that the food there would make me sick and tried to eat like everything was normal) for my brother’s birthday, a bar for my aunt (I’m a recovering alcoholic and never complained about going), and I had assisted in helping throw my niece and nephew their birthday parties.
I woke up late this morning and have no plans of going anywhere, just staying home in my shell. Dad is just hanging around, clearly trying to push me to go to the market, but I told him to go to the other event instead and to let me be.
AIO?

So, I met him from an online game back in June 2023. At first, we were just friends, but after 2 months, we decided to date. When I first dated him, I still felt confused because it was my first time dating, I told myself, "Did i really like him or not?" But as time passed I felt like he is the one just from how we act almost the same and have similar humor plus he is a guy with the personalities i was looking for, i felt really connected with him. long story short, it was my birthday on april, and he gave me a ticket to visit him as a present and stay for about 3 months at his place. I was really happy and greatful, it's just the best thing ever!!. I was keeping it a secret from my (asian) family until a week before departure to keep it a surprise, time goes by and the moment happened. I told my dad and sister( I live with them in the same house) that I'm going on a trip to visit a "friend" but my dad knows I don't have the money so i told him my "friend" paid for all the expenses, he became really confused and shocked + suspicious cus why would a friend from the internet would do something that far. I was trying my best not to expose the fact that I'm gay and dating that guy but at the end I gave up and told him everything from how I'm a gay guy and have a boyfriend ( it was kinda my fault not telling him I'm gay at the first place) he was somewhat mad and upset but he "doesn't" judge me and "accept" me, same goes for my sister. But they won't let me go and visit my boyfriend because my dad doesn't want his son to have a romantic relationship with a guy and my sister who's a religious fanatic has a different views bout gays. I feel really hopeless now my plans are ruined because they won't let me go. I even try to talk to my dad again, but he just won't budge, What should I do?? Should I risk it and follow my heart, or should I just listen??
TL;DR; my dad and sister (my sister a religious fanatic) won't let me visit my boyfriend because they don't want me to date a guy (and scared bad things might happen to me), should I listen to them or should I just left my family behind and follow my heart??

I posted about a month ago, a very controversial post :) that got 12 million views by accident. To sum it up since I deleted the post, I wrote that we had been together 8 years since meeting in college at a prestigious public-ivy, married since end of 2023.
I (27F) just started my last year of medical school and he (27M) just moved across the country to start his new job. I wrote, very superficially, that he made 315K a year, was 6'4, blue-eyed, owned a beautiful 1 acre home (queue I'm looking for a man in finance, 6'5, blue eyed...jokes!!) and that we'd be making 600K combined by 32. We had done a brief open relationship prior to engagement and with the recent move, we discussed re-opening the relationship just for casual company (san intercourse) only while we were doing distance. Some were questioning how I could trust the "sans intercourse" but this man is honest to a fault, has told me other people are much better at xyzzy but consistently reassures me that xyz doesn't make for a solid life-building partnership. During my birthday in April, and he had spent the whole week meeting other women. I wrote that he gave me 6K prior to leaving for my debts but I was in extreme emotional distress.
https://ibb.co/DQRhCKp (proof for the doubters)
Half the thread called me superficial, I just wanted to thank everyone for their feedback. I grew up in a monetarily blessed but chaotic environment (mom was abusive, dad died from cancer when I was in high school) and after he died, money was always the forefront of our concerns. I emphasized that I grew up in one of the most expensive parts of CA where houses are $1.5 million average for a 1800sq place, and mom to this day has never earned more than 50K in her career in ministry. I'm taking 250K+ out in medical school loans, and I have merit scholarships of 65K total over the 4 years. It's stressful as hell, and why I emphasized it in my post. I clarified in the comments that we don't spend much on designer bags/cars/luxury apartments or anything. In total, we spend maybe $200 each on clothes/camping gear for him a year, had a wedding under 8K and an e-ring under 2K. We just want to build a legacy in the work we do, want to ensure our future kids are comfortable, and to start a meaningful fund for the community we end up living in.
That being said, the thread shifted my perspective so significantly, I have never felt luckier in my entire life as crazy as that sounds. We had a lot of conversations since the post was made, and I finally feel safe and secure in my marriage, a feeling I thought I would never feel with any man. He told me that as long as I gave him the word, the open relationship would end. I have yet to do say that, but he has not seen anyone since the post. He has his freedom but has chosen not to do anything and expressed a lack of interest in doing anything on his end.
I'm with a man who supports my career goals (side eye at Kansas Chief's Harrison), who provides both emotional and financial support, who makes me feel fully seen, who is so proud of me. He has consistently put my pursuits first and moved for my career years ago, and he'll do it again when residency comes. Tons of my colleagues are worrying about Hinge in residency and others worry about "the clock ticking" but I'm grateful that I have found my person.
Don't get me wrong, I read every single comment for the last few weeks. His actions were in poor taste but he is a good man. No man I've known or met is perfect, but he is recognizing that he can be too self-serving at times too. I'm a huge proponent of therapy, and that is working well. I am not encouraging anyone stay in a toxic situation at all, please don't if you are. Just an encouragement for those out there that sometimes there's an opportunity to both grow together, in a way that doesn't constitute divorce. We're committed to improving individually and together and will continue building so cheers to that.
I set a reminder in my calendar to update in 10 years. All the best to everyone, nothing but gratitude and positivity.
:)

Strokes for 3 months and 5 years of them total. I haven't ate is 1+year and lost 150 lbs. I tolk all meds correctly always. As if May 1st I officially gave up and gave in anactively abusing anything I can to feel or do 1 thing. I hope to O'D tbh and whole bottles have NO effect. Brain damage so severe I've losteeverything and cannot do anything besides txt an unseen post. In bed besides to use toilet and it takes hours. All acts are torture if I can even move.Laying in bed 3 years total,I lay with my head and back hanging over. IEverything is taken and I can't do anything and the one thing I want to do I can't do it because Im so scared to die that fast and fully be unalive. I want happiness and to live long and do everything and get married and have a family.
But I'll be gone soon either way and new person gets control of my body. Which im not sure the point of all of if I die because they wanted to possess but why lock a dyingbody with cancer. All my issues are fully "schizofrenic" AKA Demon possession. I was perfectly normal just playing a video game the day this started.I wish AC worked but it's give me peace but I've got that.
My father cried on my shoulder and held me in his birthday for my gift and said it's more important thing he owns.He held till I said "it's okay pops". But it took so long cause the shock..I forgot my dad was alive and I will say this is what allowed strength to give up. What I hid with the gift,hell find and it's my souls grace. I am now at peace.
No emotions and no inner thought or thinking since Feb but I weep and it's for my father and did all humans that feel any pain.
I wish my death was similar to Christ but not to end sin but to end sufferings. I'd be blessed if I suffered all life but I'd take it all, in one body. No one does like it love me not even God so really I pray for courage to do what I need to do I can go now and not later.
Why is a mere pull of the finger the hardest part of this and only cause I know where I go after.
I get raped in hell by 5 Brutes and my feet flayed and forced to walk glass. Really is suck but if I can be saved evening 50k years I'll still thank God and forgive any evil I've been given.
My love was a sin after all and my beliefs that LGBTQ go to heaven is valid. I take it all back if I could if I knew I'd never of had a thought of it and would of done as God planned. I refused God and to be Holy that even this ex atheist would be a preacher.
Can't change last, no future and it's okay. I tried. . I know this won't be read but atleast it helped me feel seen because it's online and recorded now. Maybe my posts could help one person a bit, maybe a second. Who knows.

The bright yellow terror

‘’Every now and then I would stare at the murky brown water below and see several small glimpses of bright yellow popping up from and then retreating down below the surface in rhythmic fashion. Like a dance routine. Bright deadly yellow. The rotting sweet stench of death still lodged in my nostrils.’’
I had happened upon these diary pages by mistake when I was digging through old boxes in my basement. My wife had insisted, finally, that I sort out and get rid of everything I didn’t need. Now here I was, confronted with a part of my past I had tried to suppress unsuccessfully for so many years. 24 years to be exact. 24 odd years of trying to understand what exactly happened in those days when I was trapped on a rooftop in Phuket during a deadly and disastrous natural catastrophe.
24 odd years of having to dodge around questions of my abject and unwavering fear of the ocean. Well, in truth, I guess being caught in a large tsunami and witnessing immense destructive forces of nature coming directly from the great wide ocean would be a fair excuse, but it was only half the truth. It wasn’t just the waves themselves that had terrified me.
Until now, I thought the water damaged remains of the diary I kept back then was lost. I even hoped it was. I never shared this story with anyone. Partly because the horror was too fresh in my memory back then and I wanted to focus on moving on with my life and by the time I felt my mind was stabilized I had no real interest in returning to that dark part of my past. Partly because the right words always escaped me.
Mostly because I was afraid people would think I was insane. I can no longer contain this, however. I need an outlet. I spend years running from it. But I guess I can’t lie to myself anymore. Someone once told me that writing can be therapeutic. Simply putting your thoughts down on paper, or in our times, more likely in word document, can help you compartmentalize trauma. So, I’m giving it a try. I can’t pretend the events of those days in Phuket didn’t cast a shadow over everything in my life that came after.
I often think of the beach days I missed with my son when he was a boy. Days where I should’ve done dad stuff. Thrown him into the ocean. Watched him laugh his little face of as he braved the waves. Helped him build sandcastles. Gone exploring along the sandy shores in search of beached treasure in the form little rocks and the odd piece of amber. I just couldn’t. Initially I had objected to the idea of him going at all. Naturally, my wife would hear none of that and I realized reluctantly, that my fear and trauma should not rule my son’s life. Instead, my wife would go, and I would always stay home. She understood, to some degree, what I had gone through and where my fear came from.
Only to some degree. My son did not, and I fear he resented my absence on those perfect sunny days, despite my efforts to make up for it with other activities. Both he and my wife certainly noticed how closed off I was about certain parts of my past. Secrets untold, especially those who are grounded in trauma, almost inevitably turns to toxic in our systems. I’m finally ready. I just hope it isn’t too late.
I won’t lie. I’ve always had a vivid imagination although I have never had trouble distinguishing between what is real and what is not. At least until my sense of reality was forever challenged. I know these things happened to me. I know what I saw and what I experienced was real. I just don’t have a truly rational explanation for it. Yet, I swear, there was something in the water that came with that tsunami. Something deeply, deeply unnatural. Something brightly and oddly yellow. I had no other word for it than the bright yellow terror.
I had travelled to Thailand, more precisely Bangkok late December 2000. 19 years old about to turn 20. I was on one of those infamous and increasingly popular self-discovery trips. I had caught the fever. Like so many other young hopeful adventurers at the time I had seen The Beach. I had read into the wild by Jon Krakauer.
I watched Dicaprio walk the sandy shores of paradise and read on in excitement and awe as Christopher McCandles set out to become one with nature and discover himself. Kill the false being within and all that. In simple terms, I thought I’d try and find my own slice of heaven on earth. Expand my horizon. Get to know some new people. Learn something about myself in the process perhaps. I wasn’t exactly fleeing from anything, that wasn’t it. I had a loving although cuddling and overprotective family. Especially my mom would worry about me constantly (and still does).
Yes, I admit it. My parents had paved the way for me at almost every step. Made sure I got into the right schools. Made sure I never needed for money. I guess I got tired of feeling dependent on them. I stopped taking their money and saved up for the trip myself. It was time I stepped up. It was time I threw myself into the world to see what would happen. Hell of a time and place I picked for that.
The following story is based on the surviving pages of the diary I kept during the time and my own memory.
Bangkok 23rd December 2000. 4 days before the tsunami.
‘’My first day in Bangkok. Quite overwhelming but in a nice way. No one here to save me. No one here to tell me what to do. Thailand is hot and humid and there’s something in the air. I think it’s adventure. I think it’s limitless opportunity. I met a monkey in a diaper and got thoroughly beaten and lost 100 bath in a game of connect four by some 10-year-old kid. Got scammed as well though, I will have to wise up and learn the ropes. Avoid the yellow taxis. Go for the Tuk Tuks. Well, lesson learned. I met a guy who told me all kinds of terrifying things about Australia. Robert. I’m meeting him in Phuket a couple of days from now.’’
You could probably imagine the excitement bubbling within me. For the first time on my own. 19 years old. Prime of my life. In a strangely new and exotic city. Possibilities seemed endless. I still remember vividly driving off with the wind in my hair in a tuk-tuk as Bangkok unfolded before me with all its oriental mysticism and surrounding cityscapes. To be fair, I had never even seen an honest to god palm tree before as they simply couldn’t grow in the northern climate I was from.
I got myself stationed in a decent guesthouse around Khaosan Road. Everywhere I looked it seems others had gotten the same idea as me. Backpackers littered the streets and in a strange way, I felt at home amidst this quiet chaos, amidst the crowds of hopefully likeminded explorers, far, far away from home. The humidity was hitting me though, it was something I would have to get used to. It felt like a wet hot invisible blanket. Khaosan Road was perfect for me. A meeting place for young backpackers, with tons of opportunities to plan further travels. I did after all, not plan on staying in Bangkok for too long. It was just a stepping point to other adventures.
It was still early, and the humidity was clammy as hell. I was in the mood to socialize and with no real plans I simply ventured out into the streets of Bangkok, circling around the area where my guesthouse was located. It wasn’t long before the first opportunity presented itself in the form of a taxi driver calling me over. He offered to take me on a tour of the city. Foolish and naïve as I was, I indulged him. I remember how the cab driver lit up a doobie, joint, spliff, devil’s lettuce whatever you want to call it.
You know it as soon as you breathe in the air. Don’t get me wrong, I smoked myself, but letting a clearly high person drive me around the busy Bangkok traffic did not seem like a good idea. I should probably have asked to be let out that very moment, but as the kind of timid, shy type of person I was plus the desire to just go along with whatever happened come what may made me stay. Unsurprisingly I was eventually led to a store, fitted for a suit a didn’t want, and then subsequently charged an obscene amount for the cab ride. I didn’t have the courage to refuse his unreasonable demand. Noteworthy mention. That same night I heard from a fellow traveler that just recently someone had been stabbed in an argument with a cab driver. I didn’t let it get me down or drive me off course, because as you’ve probably gathered by now, I didn’t have a course.
As day turned to night and when the sun’s rays slowly disappeared behind the rooftops of Bangkok, the city itself began to transform. As if a part of it which had laid dormant, hidden away from the light, started to emerge.
Neon lights advertising different bars, people making all kinds of promises of untold pleasures and sensations. Tourists ready to party. All now filled the streets. Some seemed all too aware of what they were looking for, others simply drifted around aimlessly, in search of something unknown, something to spice up their existence. I found a small seemingly cool place called The Hangover. I swear to god, I wish to this day I hadn’t. Maybe then I wouldn’t have set my course for Phuket. In any case, I went in and pushed myself through the crowds of rowdy and loud tourists and up the bar where I ordered a Pina Colada. Please don’t judge me. I just really like coconuts and the song is pretty good as well. Standing at the crowded bar and looking around, hoping something interesting would catch my eye. But most of all, I was hoping someone would just take the first step and come talk to me.
Someone did. His name was Robert, and he was from Australia. A tall skinny and no-nonsense older guy who seemed quite experienced with all things Thailand. He eventually invited me down to his group of friends at the far back end of the bar. Robert spared no time telling me about himself. He had worked all kinds of jobs, in all kinds of places. Most recently he had worked as a guide in Phuket. Among other things he had arranged rock climbing expeditions. I probably forgot to mention, I was big into rock climbing and generally all kinds of outdoor activities back then.
I already had quite the climbing experience despite my young age. As Robert talked about all the places he’d been, he made me feel like the novice I was. That was never his intention though, as I quickly learned. He wasn’t a bragger. He just knew what he was talking about and when he laughed, he did it with his entire face and in a way that made you laugh with him and feel comfortable.
Eventually the conversation naturally gravitated towards Australia. A place I had always wanted to visit. He looked at me for a second, as if to contemplate something. Then told me to watch out for locals trying to play pranks on me. I was naturally interested in hearing more and that’s when he told me about drop bears. Supposedly drop bears are carnivorous versions of Koalas residing in trees to then drop down on unsuspecting victims and viciously attack them. We laughed quite a lot, and I admitted I would probably have believed the stories as I was a fairly naive person and the idea of hostile subspecies of koalas didn’t seem that farfetched to me. It would be typical of past me to get punked around like that. Our conversation then shifted towards Australian wildlife and fauna and the horrors residing within its diverse and complicated eco system. He told me about a plant not uncommonly referred to as the suicide plant. Dendrocnide moroides or more commonly known as stinging tree, stinging bush or gympie gympie apparently has such a nasty and painful sting it made a man commit suicide simply to escape the pain. Another dangerous inhabitant was the box jellyfish he explained.
Their sting was about as deadly as it gets. A single sting to a human will cause necrosis of the skin, excruciating pain and, if the dose of venom is large enough, cardiac arrest and death within minutes. I have always found jellyfish equal parts fascinating and equal parts frightening. Beautiful but deadly creatures. In fact, the ocean, in all its grand wide-reaching glory had always horrified me to some extent. So much unexplored space. Who truly knows what could be lurking down there? Robert quickly assured me, that as long as you take your precaution the likelihood of getting stung by a box jellyfish was rather small. They had signs up warning people against them. Generally, do not ignore these signs. They are there for a good reason.
It was getting late and before we said our goodbyes Robert suggested I meet him in Phuket, more precisely in the Khao Lak area on the 28^th as that was the first day he would be able to. I thought why not? He seemed genuinely nice and knowledgeable. Just good company all around and he promised to show me the greatest climbing spots a bit away from the crowded tours. It was a start.
I would never meet Robert again. I don’t know what happened to him. Thinking back on those days leading up to the point the waves came crashing down always gives me an uneasy, sad, and melancholic feeling. The people I met in Bangkok talking about going south. Those I met in Phuket before it happened. I have no idea if they ended up as corpses floating through the murky brown waters or god forbid, victims of that unholy terror from the deep. I hope Robert wasn’t among those unfortunate souls who died or went… ‘’Missing’’. Although if I must pick one or the other. I would hope he died quickly.
Bangkok 24^th of December 2000. 3 days before the tsunami.
I woke up with a slight hangover. Christmas is commonly celebrated on this date in my country, so I was expecting some calls to go through on my brick sized Nokia at some point once all the good folks back home woke up. They were about 5 hours behind me and at 9 AM Bangkok time they would still be sleeping. I used the time to do some shopping before my trip to Phuket. I got plenty of rope, a couple of snap hooks and a harness. I knew they’d have all of this on the guided tours, but I liked to find my own spots to climb, and I had good sense and knowledge enough to not attempt anything too daring. By the way. For those uninitiated, snap hooks are used to make a quick, reversible connection on a system of ropes, or to connect a rope or cord to another component, like a lanyard medallion or barrier post. Essential if you want to go climbing. If you’ve ever gone ziplining it’s the thing that connects you safely to the zipline and lets you slight across.
After having done my shopping, I bought a bus ticket to Phuket intending on leaving that same night and went back to my hotel room. As exciting as Bangkok was, I felt it was more for people intend on partying and in all honesty, a bit too crowded for me. I was excited to move on and I could always come back if I wanted to. On my way into the reception area, I was stopped by a young hip looking dude looking for a cigarette. Now I don’t necessarily consider myself a perfect judge of character, but he had an easy-going way about him that immediately drew me in. Sometimes, you can just tell.
He had sort of a rugged look about him. Dirty blond half-long hair. His face I would best describe as boyish but something in his eyes betrayed him and revealed his age to be older than you would assume. His style was… Boheme I guess I would describe it as. Like something taken out of the 70s LA scene. I’m not a smoker. Never was. So, I couldn’t help him on that front. It didn’t matter he would find someone else he said. For a while we just casually talked. Apparently, he had come to Bangkok just a few days prior and seemed about as lost and without direction as I had been before deciding on taking my chances in Phuket. Alex was his name, and he would later save my life and help me understand what it means to forge a quick and unbreakable connection through shared trauma, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
He asked me if I wanted to go somewhere and get a beer. I thought why not? He was about my age and on his own as well. I told him I had to go make some calls and I’d be out in about an hour. Back the hotel room I quickly gathered all my stuff and packed it up, so it was ready to go. My climbing gear took up the most space. I figured if things went well with Alex, I might be able to persuade him in joining me at some point in Phuket. Even though I had set out for this trip to be about discovering myself and being on my own, I longed for some kind of company. Don’t we all? I called my parents up and we wished each other a happy Christmas. It was odd to think they were somewhere nearly half-way across the world celebrating Christmas while snow draped the landscapes there. Here I was, In hot and humid paradise. No, I did not miss the cold or the snow, but I did miss not being there to celebrate the holidays with my family. But it had been my choice to go during the holiday season and I did not regret it. I had saved up enough money and there was no point in waiting anymore. There would be many other holidays to celebrate in the future.
My 5-year-old nephew somehow got a hold of the phone. Not quite the conversationalist yet, it still felt good to hear his voice. Hearing his excitement over the prospect of celebrating Christmas brought me back to my own childhood. Decorating the Christmas tree, watching holiday cartoons and of course, opening presents. I finished my calls and went out to see if Alex was ready. He was already waiting for me and had apparently managed to score some cigarettes in the meantime. He had changed his outfit as well. Now wearing a faded black doors t-shirt. We talked a bit about Jim Morrison and the doors as we headed off down streets. We passed a myriad of small stands selling everything from electronics to colorful t-shirts and small bracelets with campy misspelled English catchphrases. We dodged the many intrusive offers and eventually found a small comfy looking bar with seats outside shaded by palm trees. We ordered a couple of beers and the conversation started flowing along quite nicely. Alex was 25 and from London It turned out. We also had a common interest in music. For a while he had busked as a street musician while working odd jobs here and there and had eventually decided to travel the world.
His first stop had been India where for a while he had lived on the rooftop of some abandoned building while attempting to learn the art of playing the sitar. I thought about that for a second. Living it rough on some rooftop in India. I don’t know why that idea intrigued me so much. Seemed like freedom to me, I guess. Sleeping under the wide-open skies. Looking down on the streets and watching people go about their lives. I guess I just liked the idea of doing something that seemed different from what I had ever done before. Living on a rooftop, if even just for a while, was definitely not something I had done before. There was the view as well, Alex reminded me. And it was free of course. We drifted off into long conversations about music I won’t bore you too much with, only to let you know we shared a passion for old school music like the doors and Jimi Hendrix as well as 90s shoegaze music like My Bloody Valentine, Ride and Slowdive. I had Slowdive’s Shine playing in my mind that day. All felt so dreamy at the time.
I eventually told Alex of my plans to go to Phuket and he was onboard almost immediately. I loved how easy it was here on the road. There was no ‘’well maybe’’, or ‘’let’s think about it.’’ In fact, Alex had been to Phuket before and knew of a place we could stay for free. Another rooftop of course, but he had already sold me on the idea. From there, we could plan our next step he said. ‘’our next step’’ I don’t remember vibing with someone that quickly before or since, but then I guess making friends is always easier when you’re young and easy going. I always seemed to attract good company without much effort back then. I chalk it down to my friendly and slightly shy demeanor. Seems it only becomes harder to make friends as the years pass though. At least for me it did.
We got a bus ticket for Alex and shopped a bit more. I got some first aid supplies. Bandages, plasters, that kind of stuff. Rock climbing is safe, mind you, but you can end up scraping yourself and I felt in general, being prepared for whatever might be a good idea if I was to live it rough on some rooftop. The bus-ride to Phuket took about 12 hours give or take. By going at night, we could sleep most of the way and be in Phuket early morning on the 25^th. The trip down was uneventful. We would take turns listening to music on Alex’s Walkman or talk about things we saw along the way. Like roadside bars and restaurants who were little more than a tin roof covering a few plastic chairs and brightly colored menu cards. Everything seemed simpler here, in the best ways possible.
No big flash, no fanfares or luxury. Nothing pretentious. Just a calm, laid back atmosphere and friendly smiles from the locals as we passed by. Alex told me he wanted to start a band blending elements of Shoegaze with classic rock and insisted I learn to play the drums as he had tried but found no luck. String instruments were more him he told me. I told him jokingly if he could come up with a good name, I might be down. He just nodded and looked out the window and started talking about how beef was a rare and more expensive ingredient in Thai cuisine, and I wondered about the sudden random change of subject. Although we had talked a lot during the short time we had known each other, Alex was still a mystery to me in many ways. Judging from all the things he told me he seemed like a person who dreamed big, but never really followed through
An unfinished education. Scribbles on pieces of paper that ended up gathering dust in his drawer instead of turning into a book. A band that never really took off because he lost interest or didn’t deem that it was good enough to get successful. He talked at length about leaving a legacy. It seemed to be something that concerned him. I guess he wanted to put his mark on the world. To be remembered. To live on in some small way. I had never really thought about it myself although I did have a fascination with historical people and the lives they lived. In fact, when I do read I mostly read biographies. I just never had any ambition like that myself. I don’t need the world to know my name, or sing my praises, or remember me. Good friends, family and a sense of freedom and adventure was enough. I had tried to ask Alex about his family and friends back home, but he seemed avoidant and always found a way to change the subject without really providing any meaningful information. At certain points, I sensed a carefully hidden sadness behind his otherwise optimistically youthful and bright blue gaze.
Phuket 25^th of December 2000. 2 days before the tsunami.
Alex woke me up. It was 9 AM and we had arrived at the Phuket bus terminal 1 near Phang Nga Road. We were here. Alex explained to me that the there were several derelict and abandoned buildings perfect for establishing a free of charge rooftop domicile in an area not too far from the resorts of Khao Lak. Phuket back then wasn’t exactly the overcrowded tourist spot it is today, but it was well on the way. I understood why. The scenery was beautiful. Long sandy beaches with small island dots in the horizon, begging to be explored. Giant limestone cliffs covered in green shrubs. It did seem like paradise to me, without being too far away from civilization. I guess despite my adventurous nature, I wasn’t quite ready at that point, to walk into the wild, which is why Khao Lak seemed perfect as a start for me.
We found the area Alex had talked about. Several derelict buildings were concentrated in a small area divided by a main street that if followed long enough, led to an area with shops and places to dine. We set our eyes on what looked like an abandoned apartment complex. It was derelict, rugged looking and it seemed clear at first that no one lived there. Its ghostly façade begged us inside to explore and we accepted the invitation. As we made our way in, through a busted window in the back, we quickly became aware that the place might not be as abandoned as we had initially thought. Several signs of squatters such as cooking utensils and sleeping mats lay scattered here and there. Alex quickly rationalized that it could just be other backpackers, or it could be the people had moved on. I shrugged and we decided to make our way to the roof. We made our way to the top floor and accessed a broken-down door that led directly out onto the roof. I must admit, besides excitement, I was somewhat hesitant. Any doubt I had disappeared when we first stepped onto the rooftop terrace. It was perfect. It seemed it had functioned as a balcony or space of sorts the inhabitants could make use of for gatherings.
The entire space was surrounded by a fence. Several palm trees shaded the northwest corner which was perfect for when things got too hot. In the middle a small shed or janitorial sort of building stood. We found some cleaning materials, brooms, some parasols in there as well as an old rusty grill. The view was great. We could see the large beachfront in the far distance surrounded by limestones. After inspecting the area and finding it to our liking we sat down, and Alex broke out a bottle of whiskey. Unaware of the horror that would later unfold here, we celebrated in the shade of the palm trees. We had found our place for a while. Our place.
After a while we decided to put some money in the local economy and shop for supplies.
Essentials: Water. Cigarettes. Booze. The devil’s lettuce. Cooking utensils. Although none of us was admittedly any much of a cook. But what the hell. Can’t be seen dining out every night when we were trying to live off the fat of the land so to speak. I know, ridiculous. We were squatters. Nothing more. But heck, we would move on if we became a problem for any one here. We weren’t trying to be a bother.
Optional but greatly wanted: A blow-up animal mascot. Maybe a dolphin if possible. Some new music for Alex’s walk-man. A guitar. Decorating artifacts of any kind to make our domicile more personal.
We more or less got everything we needed and started setting up base. Getting our hands on something funny to smoke proved the biggest challenge but Alex finally succeeded at a beachfront bar. Some friendly Norwegian dude who had connections apparently. He warned us against being too open about doing drugs, even if was ‘’just’’ marijuana. Thailand had a strict approach to drugs. We thanked him and he told us to just come back here at the bar if we needed more, he was usually around.
Afternoon was rolling around and there we were. Sitting atop Phuket. On our very own rooftop presidential suite. We decorated the place with a few things we found. Among them ‘’Arthur’’ our blow-up shark (they had no dolphins). Alex had come up with the name, I asked him why ‘’Arthur’’ but in what I had quickly come to know as typical Alex fashion he just shrugged it off. We just smoked a bit and drank some booze as the evening progressed and I told Alex about Robert and Australia and all the nasty things that could kill you there. I’m not sure why, but it had made an impression on me. Insects, rare poisonous creatures, stuff like that was nightmare fuel for me. Don’t even get me started on spiders. Alex was a bit more laid back on that front. He seemed most amused and interested in the suicide plant and wondered if some poor soul had ever mistakenly used it as toilet paper and we had a good hard chuckle over that idea. Poor soul indeed.
As night rolled on stars started popping up on a clear night the sky and I learned that Alex had a fascination with the universe. Particularly the idea of multiverses and infinite universes. What if somewhere out there we were looking back at ourselves. Slightly different but still us. Sometimes it seemed to me he longed to be anywhere else but where he was. Maybe trapped in the past he was so reluctant to share with me. Then we started talking about time. I don’t exactly remember why. I think he brought it up.
Anyway, Alex had a lot to say about time. Like how he believed our perception of time is tied to our experiences. For example, someone who spends their life not stepping up, not really taking risks or chances, just following along the stream, just following the routine, in essence, just killing time, might experience time as having moved fast when they look back, because there are simply less variety, less volume, less memories to look back on. We don’t remember routines, we remember breaking them, we remember doing new things, meeting new people, being in new places. It creates the illusion that gives time volume, that makes it seem fuller, longer. I liked that idea a lot. It made sense to me. Make sure you live life to the fullest and waste as little time as possible.
I told him about my 10^th grade math teacher and how he said something about time I will never forget. Our perception of time can be measured mathematically. For example, to a 4-year-old turning 5 the transition of a year will seem much longer than it will to a 24-year-old turning 25. Because 1 in 5 is a larger fraction than 1 in 25. It blew my mind. The longer you live, the faster time seem to pass. But I agreed with him, maybe the quality and variety of the life you live and the memories you make has an affect too. Alex made a ‘’boom’’ motion with his hands around his head and laughed. We were quite stoned at that point and well, some of you might know how being stoned sometimes throws you into these philosophical conversations. It was nice. I enjoyed the ease with which I could talk to Alex about all kinds of things.
At one point I asked him a hypothetical. If he could go back in time and change just one thing, what would he do. He fell silent. I once again sensed the sadness creeping behind his eyes. It was if he was about to answer, like he was sizing me up but then shot the idea down. Time travel is impossible, so why bother was his only response and I accepted that whatever troubled him in the past, was not for me to know even if my interest only grew stronger and stronger.
I told him about my family. My overprotective mother. My father and his desperate attempts to get me interested in cars. About my older sister and my nephew. Alex nodded and asked the usual polite questions. When the subject came to my little brother his interest seemed to spark significantly. How old was he? Was I good older brother? Did I look out for him? I didn’t think much about it at the time other than finding it curious how interested he seemed to be. When we finally settled in the for night, under the starry sky, I slipped into a nightmare. It was the same I had had years earlier when I was 16. Back then I was having a hard time adjusting to the new school I had started at and maybe because of that stress I was having nightmares coupled with sleep paralysis.
I would lie in my bed, paralyzed. On my side, facing the door to my room. I often had the light on outside of the room and it would shine in through the open door. This one time , I saw dark figure approaching. Optimistically I assumed it was my mom, coming to wake me up. Although as the dark figure approached, I quickly realized this wasn’t so. No words were uttered. The eerie figure just slowly came closer, until it was right by my bed side. It sat down and I realized it was an old woman or man. It was hard to tell, because its face was literally just a mish mash of wrinkled flesh. No eyes and no mouth either. But it mumbled through its mouthless face. Speaking in tongues.
I spent some considerable time afterwards wondering what it could have been trying to communicate to me. I know of course, this was all just my mind playing tricks on me. Yet, that experience was, I suppose, my first nudge towards believing there’s more between heaven and earth than we might know. It seemed aggressive in any case. My insides were screaming as I desperately tried to wiggle myself awake as I had sometimes successfully done during paralysis. I eventually woke up. Drenched in sweat. Back then though, I had actually been in my room, and in the dream the room had stood clearly for me as it actually looked in reality which only made it seem more real. This time, I woke up next to Alex, still drenched in sweat. Alex had woken up. I had screamed in my sleep apparently. He comforted me in an almost brotherly show of affection. It took me by surprise a bit. I appreciated it, though it only made me wonder about him even more. I would have to solve the mystery behind Alex I decided. I would have to truly gain his trust. Figure him out. And I did.
Phuket 26^th of December 2000. 1 day before the tsunami.
‘’Alex played the guitar a bit and I drummed up some beats. It needed some work, but not half bad. We came up with a name for our band to be as well. Subway sleepers. Based on Alex’s time sleeping in the subway of London. It was another hot perfect day on the rooftop. We talked about going climbing the next day and I can’t wait to show Alex the joys of rock climbing. Everything is peaceful here. No stress. Just living life. Smoking it up. Meeting new people. We talked some more with that Norwegian weed dude and invited him and a couple of his friends up to ‘’our’’ place for a party. Another near perfect day.’’
Looking at these diary scribbles is making me feel it all over again. The serenity of those calm worriless summer days (well it was winter back home but it felt like summer here. Strange that) leading up to disaster. Always calmest before the storm they say. This was our last day before everything changed. Before I got a lesson in humanity. In stress under crisis. Before everything I thought I knew changed forever in the meeting with something that surely shouldn’t exist in this world.

-My husband & I have been together for 8yr. Below is a timeline of my MIL issues starting when we first began dating, to now, several years married.
Before meeting my now-husbands mother, VERY early on in our relationship and before we were even official, his mother requested to follow me on all my social media accounts. I had not met her at the time and found it way too soon & creepy. Even at this point I got the initial feeling she was the type who forces levels of intimacy that she has not made the effort to genuinely attain.
-In the beginning I did make a concerted effort w/ his family. I quickly learned his Mother asks v. intrusive questions. It’s clear her questions aren’t genuine, but for the sole purpose of having ‘intel’. As if it’s ’information gathering’ for her benefit.
-The 2nd time meeting his mother she immediately asked me what year my parents got married. I told her I wasn’t sure & she began asking me if I knew what decade.. followed by questions re: my mom’s birthdate. Then she told me what she really wanted to know was my mom’s age (always an ulterior motive..). She was beyond giddy to discover she was younger than my mom. I told her my mom was slightly older than some of my peers mothers bc she had a daughter (my sister) before I was born who passed away and she had trouble conceiving afterwards. His mom didn’t react or respond to this as she was still so giddy to over the fact she was younger than my mom. Red flag..
-When my husband and I were first dating, he lived in a house w/ several guy friends. He was 26. Whenever we’d visit his family his mom would beg him to move back home so he could save money. I found this odd behavior for a mother wanting their son to grow & flourish as an adult.
-After a year & a half dating we decide to move in together. My future MIL pulls me to the side for a 1 on 1 conversation & tells me, “if things don’t work out, don't worry, there’s always a way to break a lease & get out of living together if things aren’t going well” (..why would things not go well…?). She continues on, quizzing me ab my prior relationships and how they ended. Before reverting back to the topic of me and her so moving in together, basically telling me she doesn’t approve.. conversation leaves me feeling unaccepted, awkward and gross. I immediately told my partner how uncomfortable this made me. He was upset and went to have a talk with her. In their conversation- she gaslights him, telling him she feels like she’s walking on eggshells w/ us & she did nothing wrong, we are so sensitive, how she doesn’t do anything right, etc.
-She begins incessantly planning get togethers with us, telling us she never gets to see us (when we visit 1-2x/month). We don’t even live in the same city. Not to mention we’re busy in our 20’s w/ friends & establishing our own lives. Every time she sees us she leads w/, ‘oh I’ve missed you sooo much. when did I see you last? Why has it been so long? I’m soooo happy to see you. (On & on, guilt trip behavior).
-Our first Christmas dating we spent w/ his family, the 2nd year w/ my family. When we told her we planned to spend the 2nd Christmas w/ my family, his mother had a huge outburst which I’d describe as frantic/triggered/unhinged. My husband and I were upset by her reaction and left shortly after. The following day I txted her we were upset she reacted to our plan that way, we spent the prior Christmas w/ them & it was our decision.. and that moving forward we’d be splitting holidays. She played it off, said: “I wasn’t upset at all if you thought that I really wasn’t! I don’t think I came off like that, sorry if you felt that way” then proceeded to change the subject. Once again gaslighting (this being the last time I confront her on my own. My husband handles from here on out).
-She begins asking where I buy all my clothes. Nonstop questions ab my material possessions. Then starts going out and buying the same items for herself.
-She starts constantly telling my husband on the phone how she never sees him, leaving him feeling guilty (he’s improved a lot on the guilt-front, since our early dating era). When we see his parents 1-2 times a month.. and live 2 hrs away.
-Around this time, If I stated an opinion ab something (as in I would bring a topic up on my own) she’d debate everything I’d say as if I wasn’t allowed to have my own opinion.
-Pulls me to the side of a party 1 on 1 & tells me in private ‘you’re so lucky to have my son, I just want you to know that you’re really lucky.. I hope you know it’ she wasn’t being nice when she said it.
-Around this time she tells us how my partners sister is so sad he has a gf (me), yet she doesn’t have a boyfriend. Triangulating her 2 children, w/ the goal of wanting her son to feel guilt for being happy and in a successful relationship.
-Husbands mom starts getting jealous when we go on family beach trips w/ my family. We go for a week every year. She makes disapproving comments to us/ is generally unhappy her son is enjoying vacations.
-She starts making comments to my partner ab how I’m so closed off and won’t open up to her (making me look bad while playing the victim) and crying to him about never seeing him and how he doesn’t make enough effort..
-Begins incessantly micromanaging my husband: texts him reminding him of this and that, tells him my (as in me…) birthday is X days away, to make sure to get me something, to get his sister something, reminding him he should ‘make plans with his dad soon or go see his dad soon’ or ‘have you called your sister recently? You need to call her it’s your job as a brother’
-Begins generally undermining how we live our lives, generally casting judgement on any and every decision we make.
-Around this time his sister who is only 2 years younger begins acting bratty- we give her furniture, tvs, clothing large items she says she wants and she is super ungrateful, complains about the items we give her, tells us they’re too heavy for her & that we need to carry it for her and put it In her house for her. Only calls or texts us when she needs something, wants advice, or wants to complain to us. Never any other times. It’s always all ab her.
-His sister then keeps our dog for us when we are out of town for a few days (which we were shocked her said yes). We stocked the fridge w/ 7 or so bottles of wine for her and made our home lovely/ special for her stay. Her new boyfriend even comes to stay with her (they both have roommates so this is a chance for the 2 of them to be alone). After our trip we were over the top grateful thanking her many times. She then pitches a fit to my now husband telling him we bought her cheap Trader Joe’s wine and that she can’t believe we didn’t bring her back a tshirt from our trip, complaining on and on yelling at him.
-My partner and I get engaged and his mom/sister begin trying to force get togethers, my husband sister starts asking me to go to workout classes with her, painting classes, massages, etc.. which is v. out of character for her. It continues & becomes apparent this is happening only bc I’m now engaged to her brother. It feels disgenuine as she never made these efforts in the 5 years before we were engaged…
-My bridesmaids are my closest, nearest dearest friends who I’ve known for 10+ years. My husband’s sister cried when she found out she wasn’t a bridesmaid and started calling my husband weekly crying / begging him to be a bridesmaid. Then my MIL starts calling, telling him how disappointed she is. He tells his mother, I’m not sure why she’d expect to be a bridesmaid, she’s never made an effort, they aren’t close, she gets to select her closest friends to stand by her side. This has nothing to do with not liking or leaving anyone out on purpose. His mom cries, repeats how deeply disappointed she is, how wrong this is, etc. My husband tells his mother he plans to ask his dad to be his best man. Disclaimer: neither of my brothers were by husbands groomsmen, they couldn’t have cared less…
-My husband asks his father to be his best man. His father declines and says ‘no, not unless your sister can be a bridesmaid’………………….
-My MIL creates her own wedding hotel block for her friends and family, sending out a mass email to them. This is outside of the 4 hotel blocks we already have on our wedding website.
-I start hearing my MIL is saying to friends/family, ‘As long as my son is happy that’s all I care about, I just really hope that he is. All I can do is hope’ and telling people how devastated she is that her daughter isn’t a bridesmaid and how messed up and wrong it is and how weddings are a family celebration for the family. No one ever confronts me once about the bridesmaid situation.
-My husband ends up telling his mother to never mention the bridesmaid topic again, how he won’t tolerate it and is done hearing about it.
-We ask my SIL to give a reading at our wedding. Her response: ‘if I have to’. She is a pill our entire wedding, in almost every photo she is scowling.
-When we receive our wedding photos & upload online, my SIL/MIL text and ask me where all the photos of them are (there were plenty…). I told them I uploaded every photo our photographer sent. They told me this wasn’t true, were extremely disrespectful to me, basically told me I was lying when I wasn’t. I uploaded every single one. I even reached out to my photographer to ask if she’s deleted any of the photos before sending…
-My husband & I got into a disagreement with my SIL where we had a huge argument resulting in a 6 month period of no contact. This arises after we confronted her, calmly & maturely about an issue we had to which she cussed us out and called me every terrible curse word you can imagine. My husband was livid- told her she would not talk to/ab me that way & how childish she was behaving, how we should be able to confront her when we are upset about something she’s done, etc. After several months of no contact w/ my SIL, my MIL begins calling my husband saying: you ‘will/must’ resolve things w/ your sister. He says no & it’s not her business. My husbands father then calls him, clearly deployed by MIL (as he’s very chill/no-drama). The situation becomes even more stressful due to my MIL pressuring my husband re: a topic that doesn’t involve her. I too become stressed, seeing my in laws trying to control him. My in laws then have my SIL’s bf text my Husband saying, ‘I really hate seeing this for the family I want everyone to be ok’ (although once has my SIL attempted to reach out & apologize for calling me a bit** cu**, etc). When his attempt doesn’t work on my husband, my MIL then sends my husband & me a joint text message ab How she wouldn’t be intervening if her daughter could handle this on her own & how we need to fix it. My husband responds & tells his mom off, essentially saying: This isn’t your business. My wife is owed an apology, you guys also have never apologized for how horribly you treated us during our wedding.. the happiest time of our lives, a day we get to have exactly how WE want. My sister can handle her own problems she’s an adult, shes never going to learn bc you meddle in every problem she has bc you want things your way. Then when you don’t get what you want, you get everyone to do your dirty work for you in hopes you can bulldoze & get your way. You make everything ab you, what you want, when & how you want it. Those days are over (this is a summary of his response).
(hmm wonder why my SIL doesn’t know how to handle adversity, bc you handle everything for her even though she is an adult)
-SIL reaches out to my husband and says she wants to talk. He says no, you treated my wife poorly. You will reach out and apologize to her, not me. You won’t disrespect my wife. And she does do this although it takes her a week or so. And it did seem genuine.
-I think this all stems from drama my MIL creates, and when things don’t go her way she pulls others in to manipulate them & do her dirty work for her.
-husband and I lived 2 hours from his parents. We end up moving 10 hours away to create distance from his family. They disapprove and generally disapprove of any and every decision we make, as they don’t act with love and support our decisions as loving parents would.
-In laws announce they are starting an annual family vacation…to the private beach MY family has vacationed at since I was born (it’s not a mainstream location…it’s rather obscure). My in laws have never even been there before. I tell my husband I absolutely refuse to go & will not enable the intrusive/copying behavior.
-My husband & I take a trip just 2 of us. We stay in an airbnb. 3 months later his parents tell us they planned a trip to the same location for the 2 of them & they’d also found & booked the exact same airbnb we stayed at so they could experience the same exact trip my husband & I went on….
-Additional overstepping, intrusive, creepy behavior like above persists. They start buying many of the same exact material items, or furniture we own (obscure antiques, designer items, etc….), essentially copying everything we do. We want our own unique & individual things that make us, US. & it seems as if demand to show us they won’t allow us to have that for ourselves under and circumstance. Almost as if they aren’t entitled full access to our lives, so they will bulldoze and access our lives in their own ways to make them feel in control. This is my take.
-There’s no major animosity now but we have majorly pulled away from them. My husband calls his parents once a month or so. We now see them 3-4 times a year.
-Things will be nice & relaxing for a month or 2 then out of the blue my MIL will blow up out of nowhere calling my husband 8x in a row telling him he will speak to his mother he will do this and that. Often he simply ignores her or waits several days to respond. She likes to tell him ‘you need to call your father and speak with him’ ‘hey it’s dads birthday make sure do this and that’ (obviously we know when their birthdays are… we are pretty on top of things, still she cannot stand not being in control).
-MIL just flipped out on my husband for not calling her on Mother’s Day, though we send a gift, card, and send multiple texts first thing in the morning. My husband received multiple messages from his dad : why have you not called your mother??? Did you forget? Call your mother now. We’re skeptical the texts were actually from his dad..
-Although we’ve distanced ourselves, the every 2 mnth outbursts are exhausting. I am now 6 weeks pregnant. So excited! BUT Dreading telling them as I envision MIL & SIL making it all about them, freaking out ab how we aren’t involving them enough.. I imagine my MIL starting to disgeuninely call/text me constantly, demand to be involved at the level she expects & believes she deserves, will probably buy high chairs, cribs, etc for her own home.. and make it about her In any way possible.
Any advice on how to deal with a woman like this? I feel like I have to constantly prepare for her actions, outbursts, or things she might say. She’s draining, the pressure she puts on my husband is absurd, her expectations are outrageous, she’s judgmental and controlling, everything is about her, and she is emotionally immature in every way. I feel protective over my husband and our marriage and can’t stand them constant trying to order him around with their high expectations and demands. Help!

Dear sweet you,
I didn't get a photo of your sunrise. It's been thunder storming all morning. Fits the mood a little not being able to celebrate you today Earthside. I miss your amazing sense of humor, music, essence. You positively impacted my life so much. God needed you. I had the privilege to be with you after you went with him in that hospital room. I love you! I miss you! I have so much to tell you. Over chai tea, The Fray, laughs, watching Frasier until we fall asleep after a night out dancing. Pride is coming up, I'll wear my pride loud and proud for you and us and everyone!
Happy heavenly Birthday, J. Always on my mind, forever in my heart. Miss you eternally.
With love.

i have been struggling with this for 11 months now and have thought about asking here for all of it.
my daughter is 11 months old, she was born at 40 weeks so no complications or anything like that. she is a good baby but def not chill like my son, 5, who was quiet and super easy and good with anything. she is extremely particular and likes a huge amount of time and attention. i know they all do but she is what you could call high maintenance. her father is not my sons father.
her dad works full time and i’m a stay at home mom with a daily job for a couple hours every morning, i go across the street kids in tow and swamp the bar. we live in a very small town in a very rural area so this is not a big deal. i kind of have an issue with him never and i do mean never, being a parent so i don’t have to take kids with me to work. i clean fast so max it’s an hour and a half he would have them alone.
he says he can’t do diapers, when he does have her i come home and she is needing a diaper always, sometimes BADLY and i then have clothes to spot treat etc.
he doesn’t dress her or do anything else that gets her ready. if we are trying to leave for something he will sit on the couch and bitch at me not being ready while i struggle to get my son done and myself (am to the point where it’s unusual for me to be able to just brush my teeth and my hair and wash my face and put on sunscreen) and i don’t take long to get dressed because i haven’t even gotten to go get any clothes out of storage that fit me now that im not pregnant so i literally have two pairs of pants and maybe three tops that are mine and aren’t his too small tshirts.
he won’t get her diaper bag packed or get her in her car seat. he has never fed her. the days he has off that i wouldn’t have to take her to work with me he still says i have to, because he needs to sleep. (if i try to go over when the bar closes so i can sleep in the next morning until like 8/830.
when everything in the house isn’t done he tells me i have to stay up at night and get it done and used to call me lazy. he has never gotten up with her at night to feed her and she is breastfed but used to be extremely good about also taking bottles. never gets up to change her at night. religiously gets 8-9 hours of sleep every day while i have fought for four ave this whole year.
he always tells me it’s because he has a job. with my job i have to buy all of my own stuff like makeup clothes (i lost everything in a fire two years before she was born, including my house that was paid for) and anything i want to use on my face. im responsible for my own car and truck insurance. i pay the kids life ins policies and buy all of their clothes and everything else they get like easter baskets may day etc. he does do most of christmas and we split birthdays down the the middle.
all cooking, dishes, laundry, cleaning, kids stuff, paperwork, bill pay, app and mental load is on me. he complains i’m not getting enough done daily.
when i say he needs to take at least her when he comes home for an hour so i can fold clothes or something he say no, because he actually worked all day and has a job. he’s tired and he wants to relax. he finds time to put his feet up literally multiple times a day if it’s a workday at least once when he comes home well, I struggle to even feed myself anything for breakfast and lunch or go to the bathroom after seeing everything else he goes to bed by 8 o’clock or 9 o’clock while I routinely got to bed by 11 if I’m lucky.
I have an over supply of milk and have been pumping and donating to the milk bank which irritates him and he was telling me it was a waste of my time, but if I didn’t, I would lose my supply so I couldn’t even feed our daughter. i usually pump 3/4 times a day but have gotten to the point i’m lucky if i make 2, which is not comfortable.
when I ask for help, even if it’s just to play with the baby in the same room, I’m in while I’m cleaning because she does prefer to be with me. I’m told he doesn’t have time or he wants to relax or other moms make it work.
where is the truth in this hell from a man’s perspective?
i know he’s immature but this seems crazy to me. Thank you for any advice.

I'm 25 and I feel like a looser. Since I was 18 I started working and studying. Every money I had, I put it away always for the dark days to come. I didn't grow up with a lot of money..
At one point of my teenager life i started to feel out of place and I don't understand if people genuinely like me, that's why I try to keep a distance. Most of the time, I feel totally okay with being alone. But there are days when I feel lonely.
I feel like I am a boring person, because I have nothing to talk about really, that's why I don't really text people. My life is basically uni, work, visiting my parents.
To be honest, I feel like a bother to people. Sometimes I'm envious of people, when they post pictures with friends because I don't really have a lot of them or even a friend group. I was at the festival once with some people from uni, I felt so out of place because I couldn't really talk with them about stuff. There was a vacation with my parents and I invited a friend/colleague (we worked together at the time). She came with us , but she was such an asshole that told her to leave. Another girl's vacation, I just knew 2 of them (but not that well). I didn't know the other two girls. It was a shitshow, too. I thought this is the only time when I will go on a girl's trip because there aren't people who are inviting me to stuff. I just feel like a side character. People won't even remember me in the future.
University isn't really a struggle. But I'm still doing my Bachelor degree for almost 5 years. Other people around me, are doing their masters and I still didn't finish Bachelor. My first semester was the worst, I thought. I had problems with my landlord and went to court. This crap was going on for a year. My mental health was the worst at the time. It got worse, my mom got cancer. Everything was so hard. I was helping at home, cooking, going to doctors in my free time because my dad doesn't remember stuff really well. My mental health was not the best either at the time. Oh, and corona happened. I couldn't pass an exam for almost 4 years. I did pass it thought in April. If everything goes well, I will be finished with my degree next summer.
Oh, and I got white hair. There are just strands, but there are a lot of them. It doesn't really bother me, but sometimes it does.
I was never in a relationship. I would definitely say that I'm not ugly. I do think that I'm a good-looking person. People around me told me the same. But it never happened. Most of the guys I talk to just wanted Sex and if I had a date I felt out of place or the vibe wasn't there. I did use dating apps, but to be honest it's not working and in the normal world nobody actually tried to hit on me.
I had dreams and these days it feels like I have none and gain only problems. In these past few months a lot of crying was involved in my life. I never cried that much. I'm not a crier. I'm more a person to keep it to myself.
Sometimes my life doesn't seem to me worth living. I didn't make remarkable memories to remember. Not a lot of people remember my birthday besides my parents and brother. It seems like if I would go and live in the forest, nobody would remember that I existed.
At the end of the day, I feel like im the problem. But I have hope that maybe someday I will look at my younger self and be like: Life got better.
I do feel like I forgot something to mention. But I have 0 hopes that's this won't make this post less depressing.
thank you for reading my ramblings. I hope everyone has a good day.

I’m 22 and my parents have an investment account set up in my name I got access to when I was 21. They told me on my birthday they did not think I was in a place mentally to have the explanation of the account. No paperwork was signed or court orders exist regarding this. Months later my parents needed to give me money to pay rent so they printed up a piece of paper that said I would sign over about 8k from the investment account to my parents. I said multiple times to my mother “I don’t understand what I’m signing I don’t want to sign it.” And she kept repeating “I just need you to trust me.” Eventually I signed the form. No notary was public for the signature. This happened months ago and someone recently raised alarm bells over this occurrence for me. When I asked my mom how it was possible for me to sign the form without a notary present she said “Trusted agreement between two people that one would pay their debt. Dad signed same way taking loan from grandma and grandpa when we were in school.” What do I even begin to do? I’m working on getting a copy of the paper I signed since it was signed under duress but where do I go from there?

Hello.
I just passed my 10th and result came out on 13/05 scored only 75% (very average Ik). Ofcourse just like every middle class family my parents were also disappointed in me specially my dad. He called me on the same day and Said things like "jahil" (illiterate) and "Go back to Village government school we are wasting money on you" though my mother was understanding and didn't said much to me.
Now, it's 14/05 and it's my birthday, got call from my uncles (mother's brothers). They wished me, asked about my score and told me that it's fine. Inshort they were also understanding. But my father didn't call me, heck he even didn't speak to me (even though he called mom just like regular). I didn't celebrate or should I say I didn't want to but still my mother insisted, so she brought a small cake and some patties.
3 of us cut the cake (me, mom, little brother) Again dad didn't call nor talked.
It doesn't end here.
I started my 11th on 01/04 and I was absent for a really long time. So got a really long backlog and a lot of my notebook work is pending. There was PTM (parent teacher meeting) on 16th so my class teacher called me and asked me to handover the phone to my mom and that b@st@rd complained to my mom about me. Though she didn't say much to me but I could see that disappointment in her eyes. We didn't make it to PTM. And the CT just messaged me that another PTM is there tomorrow for those who didn't attend previously and I am pretty sure he would complain about me even more.
I just don't know what to do, only hope that's keeping me afloat is my mother. I feel terrible.
I do accept that I have some privileges like understanding mom, good financial background, few but understanding relatives etc.
And still I can't score good, still I can't live upto their expectations.
I seriously don't know what to do, I just want to run away from my house but I can't because my mom would have to face all the backlash from family and friends.
Looks like. I will just have to Tolerate this untill i pass 12th.
Life is shit.

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.

AITA
This is gonna be probably pretty long and all over the place but I'll try and keep it straight and to the point.
So I have a daughter. She is 11 almost 12. For the first 9+ years of her life her dad had not been involved. ( She was a fortune product of a one night stand) When he showed up almost two years ago it was with some fabricated story that a child support case worker alienated him and threatened him with harassment if he pursued a relationship with his daughter. I did try to reach out a couple times when she was younger trying to encourage a relationship between them and all attempts went ignored. He says this is because he was afraid I was setting him up. Well up until this past December I took him at his word. He was semi involved until that point. In December he met a woman and all contact stopped minus a few check ins and multiple inappropriate messages to me considering he was in a relationship. Each time this happened I would lay a boundary. During one of these contacts he promised he'd send his child support and $100 for Christmas/Birthday gift for her. That did not happen. He instead sent me a dirty video saying he "hoped that made up for it" 🤮🤮🤮 at this point I lost my iiisssshhhhh on him and told him essentially he was in a relationship and needed to knock it off. I didn't want to see that and it was disrespectful to me and his partner.
He moved in with this partner within a month of meeting her. Red flag right?
Before he met her I was trying to help him find an apartment locally as he lives 200 miles away. I absolutely advocated for him to have a relationship with his daughter from the second he showed up because I've never been the type to keep my children from their father unless it was for good reason. He was supposed to get her a phone and pay for it so they could maintain contact. Never happened. I supplied the phone and the service and it was silent.
After he had sent me that video I had put him on restricted on FB so I didn't get any messages from him. I finally get a call from him on Valentine's day apologizing for his behavior and letting me know he was sending some child support that day.
Then at some point in March he reaches out again saying he was no longer with this girl and he was sorry for his absence and he'd do better. The following week our daughter's phone caught fire and I let him know (not that he was contacting her anyways). The next day he said his cousin had gifted him a phone and he wanted to send it to our daughter. Cool. Let's do it. Then he texts a few days later saying he would be in a town 45 miles south of me and could I meet him and said girlfriend to receive the phone and bring our daughter so he could see her. (At this point the last I knew him and chick had broken up). I said no thanks you can drop it in the mail and I would not be bringing our daughter to meet him with the on again off again girlfriend. I found that extremely disrespectful as he had stopped contact with our daughter when he met this woman and I did not feel comfortable bringing my daughter to meet her or even really dealing with her myself. They obviously have an unstable relationship. He called me petty, we had som choice words and again I didn't hear from him.
Two days ago our daughter was admitted to a psychiatric facility after I found some very concerning diary entries by my daughter talking about Una living herself.
Since coming into our lives my daughter has turned into a mean spirited person. She will fat shame her brothers, hit and push her you get siblings and is just kind of generally abusive to everyone around her. She's told me multiple times she's angry at him and very hurt.
Anyways, I figured he ought to know she's being admitted as this is pretty serious. His response was "we are trying to figure a way up there". As in him and the girlfriend were going to come up while our child was in crisis. I went off again. Telling him again he has chosen this woman over our daughter and how dare he think it's appropriate to bring this woman up here while outr daughter is in crisis. I told him it is up to our daughter if they are involved and just showing up ESPECIALLY with the person she feels (justifyibly so) that he chose over her while she's in crisis. He come back with he has no idea why I'm bringing it back to him and the girlfriend when we should be focusing on getting our daughter better. My stance is, he brought it up. He asked for eventually for us all to be able to be cool and again he implied he was going to try and bring her up here to visit our daughter in the hospital. I laid a boundary. And some how I am the one not focusing on our daughter right now.
This was yesterday and I have not heard one word from him. He has not inquired as to how our daughter is, what facility she is at, how he can contact her. Nothing. I am so irate at this point I am seeing red.
AITA for being so angry at him? In my state abandonment is after 6 months. He was gone for 9 years. He has been inconsistent at best especially the last 6 months or so. Would I be justified in just blocking him and continuing on with our life like he never showed up?

So I have been a bit worried recently because my own dad may have commited the unforgivable sin of blasphemy. About 1 year ago (my family isnt christian) i started getting involved with Christianity, and decided to tell my family. I went to tell my dad "Have you heard of God?" and he replied in a sort of weird manner saying "Aw you have to praise the Lord" and later said that its stupid. Up until now i have had a chat with him after he walked in on me praying one night. I said to him stuff about christianity and he respected my decision moving to Christianity. And i want my family to go to heaven with me so im very worried if my dad has commited blasphemy and wont. I just want to hear your response on this and if he has. Is there anything i can do about it? Thank you for reading.

First of all congrats to all 2024 graduates.
This is a long one so yea. My dad has always been a pretty much absent father. Especially financially, with my mom buying us everything we’ve needed , we being my sister and I. I have vivid memories of my dad calling and saying he’s come pick us up for us to spend time with him, only for him to arrive at 10 PM to give us a $10 bill and kiss good bye. we saw him occasionally. We’ve maybe been with a total of 10-20 times throughout the entirety our lives. But as we got older we realized that we weren’t a priority of his.
Right around when COVID hit though my dad began to come around a lot more. But not in the way u may be thinking. See my dad got into hard drugs, with his then gf. Lost my baby brother to CPS, and was basically homeless. So he invited himself to our home, sleeping in my moms car at night and sometimes my mom being the god send that she is was nice enough to let him come in and eat when it got colder out. This was the worst time of my life concerning my father . I saw him in a completely different light and thought very little of him. It just completely stunned me that the only way my dad would come to see his kids is if he had nowhere else to go. He , as most drug addicts was in and out of jail, until one time when he had to stay for a few months longer , and then spent a few months in a halfway house. All throughout this and before my mom never really spoke ill of my father , unless she was arguing with him about some bull shit he was doing while being a druggy and hanging around our house, like doing drugs in our basement. But she always encouraged or even forced us to communicate with him, and try to forgive/ build a relationship with him. Aswell as countless times of my mom helping this man. Giving him money, rides, clothes, and wtv else he asked for.
Well after my dad went to jail that last time and was in the halfway house, he came out a new man. He kicked his drug habit, got his CDL license and was doing great. My sister and I were very proud of him and wanted to give him another chance. We spent 4th of July with him, and hung out with him a couple more times just driving around in his car. And just in general we’re a little closer and more communicative.
Fast forward to the 2 main incidents that led to him not being invited to my graduation . So as I was heading over to a friends house one day my car cut out. My mom was at work with a client (she’s a hairdresser) so I naively thought I could call my dad. He showed up took a look under my hood and realized that id need to get it towed. So I took the initiative to start calling tow companies and try to find the cheapest one. I luckily manage to find a guy that would do it for only $65 . Which if you’re an adult you know how much of an insanely good deal that is. Whilst I’m calling tow companies my dad has spent this time complaining about my moms choice in cars , and basically blaming her for my car cutting out. And also trying to call his sister so he could borrow a tool she had to just hitch my car to her truck and tow it himself. He can’t get ahold of her so I bring up the $65 tow guy. This man starts complaining saying he can do it for free and just wait for his sister to pick it up. Anothe 30 minutes go by and nothing. So i call my mom, and ask her can she cashapp me. Of course she says yes. So I call the tow man myself to get my car towed. The entire time this man is complaining about paying $65 fucking dollars, complaining about my mom buying the car , and complaining saying I hope she doesn’t expect me to pay for this. Mind you he has a CDL license, so he’s making good money and can more then afford to pay it . He paid $30,000 for his car cash and was able to save this money up for it in only a few months, so u do that math for how much he makes. At first I was ignoring him letting him talk shit. But he just kept going on and on and on, and I finally snapped and told him to stop talking about my mom and began defending her. We got into a heated argument that ended with him saying don’t ask him for anything, and me assuring him that I won’t. I had started crying because of how frustrated I was at the situation . I was asking something so little of him and this is how he acted? And he made fun of that saying “I’m not going to cry about it either” this was the last straw and I vowed to never reach out to him again.
I kept that vow despite my moms continuous efforts to get me to talk to him/ unblock him/ forgive him , but I was done. My 18th birthday roles around a few months later. And I decided to be nice and invite him, my thought process was I’m going to college soon , and won’t see him for probably the 4 yrs that id be gone away to school. So why not just try. I didn’t ask this man for anything and just told him where the place of my party was. The time comes and my mom and I are a little late to my party about 10-15 minutes late to getting to the place. He begins texting me asking where we are , and I say we’re a few minutes late, but otw and just resend the address . He starts making excuses saying oh he has work he has to go and wtv else. I say ok that’s fine . He says oh I have a gift I wanted to give you. I say oh you could bring it later when ur off or we could meet somewhere for me to get it tmrw. The next day roles around and I ask him if he worked today and when I could meet him to get the gift. Then he starts talking bs saying, oh I already gave it to ur mom, with the child support card. I’m thinkin oh maybe he can put more money on it and did that for me , for my bday. But no he was referring to the money he is mandated to pay by the state , which he just began paying for the last year or he so he’d been driving trucks. So once I realized this I decided to tell him how bad of a father he was, and yes I did disrespect him and curse him out and I didn’t care. This was really the final straw and I wanted to give him a piece of my mind. And that I did. This is where he really fucked up though. He texted my mom saying to give me the childsupprt card for my bday. My mom uses the $400/ month he pays for our utilities and has them on autopay. And idrc what anyone thinks about that I think it’s a very appropriate use of it. Especially since she pays for wtv else we need and want with no complaints . So she tells him it’s sad that has nothing to give his daughter on her 18th birthday and not to text her phone with the bs telling her what to do with the money. Ig this upsets him because he brings up something’s of my moms past , during a time that was really hard for her. And that was it for my mom. She cut him off too, and though she has not hate for him, she says she’s done allowing people in her life that do nothing but take advantage of and disrespect her. I was relieved to finally have my mother stop pressuring me to spend time with my father, and happy to be done with the stress and pain that he usually causes when he’s around.
Fast forward to now , my Graduation was last week. I only had 8 tickets . And I had already decided to give tickets to my grandma , her 5 kids (my mom , aunts , and uncles) my sister and my favorite cousin. A few days before the graduation whilst at school, a teacher pulls me aside and asks me did Ik my dad tried to come up to my school to get a graduation ticket . I laughed this off. The day of my graduation comes and I find out he was at the place of the graduation trying to find me. I was relieved that we didn’t bump into one another because I truthfully don’t want to see him. But later I felt a little bad when thinking about how he tried to come to the school then still came to the graduation despite not being let in obviously for the lack of a ticket. I don’t know why but my mom is in the same boat feeling guilty that he wasn’t let in on such a big moment. And has began some of her old antics of saying oh can he come to ur graduation party (not the ceremony but a family celebration) my guilt however doesn’t extend this far, and I just can’t give this man yet another opportunity to disappoint me. So what do you think Reddit , am I the asshole?

My birthday is coming up soon and I really want to get a new phone as my present. My dad has been working really late for the past few weeks, and I feel like asking him to buy me a new phone would make him feel more stressed and work even more, I don’t want to always rely on him to buy things for me so I hope that if there are some people in this subreddit that are willing to help me get this present, feel free to donate using Touch N Go to this DuitNow account: 131036601127. Any amount would help. Thank you.

My husband lost his dad very unexpectedly on March 11th. They were incredibly close…. Well, he told me he doesn’t want to celebrate Father’s Day this year. I already ordered a grief journal with “Letters to my dad in Heaven” and his dads name as well as a bracelet with our sons names. I want him to know his dad is still cherished from afar and that we are celebrating him still. I, also, want him to know that I celebrate him as the father of our sons but I don’t want to do too much as I know this holiday will be a very difficult one for him this year. Please help friend.

I am 32 days out from my wedding, which means that it’s the time for final meetings with vendors making final decisions about food and booze and table layouts and flowers and all sorts of things
I was really banking on having my mom with me to help me with this stuff. I graduated from college two days ago and I’m exhausted and completely burned out and I was relying on having her with me at those meetings for support and advice
Instead of helping me, though, she has to spend these next two weeks where all the final decisions and a ton of work has to get done driving across the country to get my brother who earlier this week OD’d on fucking whippets, of all things, which apparently are in fashion again. He gave himself brain damage, and can’t take care of himself anymore so my parent have to go get him (and my other brother, who live together on the other side of the country) and bring him back to live with her and my dad so they can take care of him, and I can’t even let my mom know how upset I am to not have her here for this because she’s heartbroken about what happened to my brother.
On top of it all, I’m not supposed to tell anyone (except my fiancé who I tell everything to) what happened because my mom doesn’t want my brother to have to be embarrassed.
On the plus side, the degree I just graduated with is a teaching degree, which means I don’t start working until August, so I do have the time and ability to do everything myself. I just didn’t want to.
I just keep getting flashbacks to my 16th birthday when my parents insisted on going and getting my brother out of rehab for the day, even though I was really mad at him because he’d been getting high before driving me, and later my little brother, to school every morning for a long time, which is why my parents sent him to rehab in the first place.
TL;DR: Momm can’t help me with finalizing wedding plans and the month of wedding work because she has to drive across the country to retrieve my brother who overdosed on whippets.

I can explain, so this morning I had the thought that my dad might be in hell since he committed suicide. He was a believer in christ and I even remember him being baptized but he later fell back into his old drug habits before he died when I was 10 years old. This thought soon turned into me questioning God's goodness and I started to think how God could be good and how I could possibly enjoy heaven when I die knowing my dad is suffering in hell.
I tried looking into this to see whether it was true or not that my dad is in hell despite being a Christian and I came across a blog post with Mathew 10:34-39 and that's when it hit me. I'm sure you all already know but Jesus basically says here that if anyone loves their father or mother more than him is not worthy of him and I realized by thinking this way I was putting my earthly father above him. Every since that realization I felt a separation from God that I've never had before. Usually when something like this happens I can cry out to god and immediately feel comforted and secure with him but now after this I can't even cry at all, it's like I can't feel anything anymore. Did god abandon me and permanently harden my heart for good?
I still feel an intense sense of fear and condemnation that I've never felt before and I want nothing more than to get back to him but I now I feel like he has turned his face from me. I feel like I can't go to him anymore because of this, like I messed up too much this time please help.

I don’t know if I’m looking for validation, or even just other people’s thoughts and opinions. But it feels relieving to write this.
My friend of six years (and roommate for 4 1/2) is very, very pretty. She draws lots of attention at our workplace, which has a high amount of staff and lots of people who come and go. She recently found confidence in her looks due to the attention and I’m very happy for her in that regard. She also likes having sex, which I fully support as long as it’s safe and I’m not home.
What I don’t support is that the majority of men she sleeps with are in relationships.
There have been unique conditions, like one guy who was (possibly) an abusive relationship, and another who was separated from his wife (not divorced), and another that may or may not have a girlfriend. Even so, she has had no problem flirting and sleeping with taken men. And it, to my core, disgusts me.
I have no control over her, of course. I can express my distaste and she brushes it off. But with the latest guy, who she promised she wouldn’t do anything with (“we just kissed and cuddled”), I think I’m done.
She has no sympathy for the other women in the relationship and claims almost zero responsibility for being the other woman. And yet, she’s always claimed that she absolutely hates cheaters. Which I now know means she hates the idea of a man cheating on her.
I genuinely hope one day she finds someone she is able to connect with emotionally, and is so happy, and that he fucking cheats on her. Maybe then she’ll grow up.
And I know it’s terrible of me to feel this way about a friend, but after choosing sex with a guy over letting me go to sleep ON MY BIRTHDAY, I think I can be justified, if only a little.
Edit to clarify: She doesn’t ONLY sleep with taken dudes. Some have been totally single, and she had a boyfriend a while ago who was single when he asked her out. I believe her going for taken guys is more just that if she wants it, she gets it, along with issues of abandonment by her family. It could be more, but being with her as long as I have, I don’t think it has to do with thrill or jealousy.
That being said, I don’t know if she would go for a guy I was dating. I doubt it, since she likes skinny and muscular guys, and I prefer husky with dad bods. I’m also not dating currently, and probably won’t for a while.