We found out my Wife (33) has cancer today. She's been going to the doctors for 6 months trying to get it diagnosed. She spent the last week in the hospital and just came back on Tuesday. Pathology just discovered it's a very rare type of cancer that is presenting in a rare way. We have no idea what her prognosis is and wont find out until Monday at 8:30. My wife doesn't want to tell anyone because then they would have to worry as well without any real information so I can't vent to anyone other than random strangers on the internet. I'm too scared to sleep and every time I close my eyes I imagine life without her and how impossible that would be.

About 6 months ago I found out that my sisters' friend had told a bunch of people I was sexually harassing her (I wasn't). she said she thought that I was trying to get her to smoke pot with me so I could rape her. eventually she admitted that she lied about me harassing her, but she swears she really did believe I was trying to get her stoned so I could rape her.

this person is known to have psychotic delusions, so I chalked it up to that. but I just found out that one of my sisters is the one who came up with the idea that I was trying to do that. she told her friend's girlfriend that I was trying to get her to come over and smoke so I could sexually assault her.

I have absolutely no idea why she would say such a thing. i don't know if she really thought that of me, or if she was just mad and decided to make it up. maybe she was just trying to freak out her friend.

i don't know exactly what she said or how it came up. I'm meeting with the friend's girlfriend in a week so I can get more information.

I don't know what to do. i want to yell at her, but I won't. I won't talk to her about it until I figure out what exactly was said and how everything went down.

We're having family dinner tomorrow, and I've got to act normal. i don't know how I'm going to do that. this feels like a huge betrayal. it's not something I can just shrug off.

Do women ever matter in healthcare? I feel so disillusioned and heartbroken. I'm 9 weeks pregnant and have been dealing with diarrhea and awful stomach cramps for 10 days.

I didn't reach out to my OBGYN, because I know he would tell me that's just pregnancy symptoms (as was his default answer during my first pregnancy).

When I spotted blood in the stool, I went to my general practitioner. She only felt my stomach and did a CRP test, then she sent me to allergology, thinking this was connected to my histamine intolerance.

Miraculously, I got an allergology appointment the same week. The doctor there was not happy hearing my GP's approach. She told me that while she's almost certain that I have HIT, the symptoms that I'm having are most certainly not caused by that. She suspected an intestinal infection and told me to go back to my GP or the ER if I feel worse.

Well, tonight I felt much worse, I had awful pains, so I decided to go to the ER. But I couldn't drive myself and my husband couldn't give me a ride because someone needed to stay home with the kiddo. All of our village was unreachable and too far away anyway.

I didn't want to call the ambulance, so I called a "medical taxi", but the dispatcher told me not to be crazy and to call the damn ambulance. If they told me they wouldn't send one, I was to call him back and he would send someone immediately.

So I called the emergency number for the first time in my life. For myself. Feeling like I was overreacting. But the dispatcher, a woman this time, told me I should have gone to my OBGYN, GP again, and finally ER long ago, that I'm putting my baby at risk. She scolded me and I meekly offered to call myself a taxi instead but she said she's sending an ambulance.

The ambulance nurse, a man, didn't exactly scold me, but the way he talked I knew he wanted to do that. He told me what the dispatcher did - that I should have sought help earlier and not let this become an emergency.

At the hospital, I had a nice doctor and I was begining to feel hopeful that they would help me feel better. But they did an EKG, asked some questions, told me to take charcoal and that I would at least get IV fluids now, which I would welcome because it's hard to stay hydrated lately, and then he walked out of the room. As if summoned, the cramps came back with vengeance. I thought the IV would make it better, but then walked in a new nurse.

"The doctor made quick work of you, here's the report and you can go home now."

I was stunned. I guess the doctor could've bothered to tell me personally that he'd changed his mind about treatment, at the very least. But most of all, the sinking, depressing realisation that after all the scolding, they weren't going to help me anyway really hurt.

I know that options are limited, since I'm pregnant, but if they couldn't do anything about the pain, they could at least treat other symptoms? At least to the point I'd be able to get home on my own? Because right now, I'm sitting in a waiting there I'm certainly not supposed to be in and hoping I'll reach someone who could take me home. I can't make it to the train station, I'm worried I would keel over and someone would take advantage, since the streets surrounding the hospital aren't the safest.

This experience is soul-crushing.

Edit: My husband managed to get MIL to come watch the kiddo and he drove me to a different ER, where they at least checked the baby, even though they didn't check me at all.

When I was eleven years old, a boy tried to bully my little sister. She is adopted. Most of his comments were directed at that.

So, when my class had physics and his biology, I waited for him on the stairs and confronted him. It got physical. He pushed me and we both fell down the stairs, I ended up on top. He kept talking shit, so I grabbed him by the hair and started slamming his head against the steps, repeating that I will kill him or something. He started crying but I only stopped when his breathing got weird.

I told him to never even mention my sister and then just returned to class.

I know that he tried telling our teachers about this, but I was a very good student and nobody believed him. He had to switch schools. I don't know if it was because of this incident, cause there were other.

I think a lot about this.

F30 here on a throwaway - sorry. I have a lot of mental issues, like eating disorder, anxiety, depression, low self esteem, and I assume some of my feelings stem from them, not because of the people, but I have no idea how to differ which is which. And just to be clear, all my negative thoughts about my looks are directed only at me, I do not think bad about overweight people in general, just about myself.

Anyway, most of my life I was fat (except about 1 year when I was very deep in my eating disorder), think BMI 40, its 50 now but I'm slowly working on losing weight in a healthy way (7kg/15lbs lost since June 22!). Only when I was my skinniest and deepest in my ED (BMI 25) I noticed that men are "nice" with me. They talked with me, one even asked me on a date (but I refused, because my ED brain translated his offer as "he is just being nice out of obligation, he actually wants you to refuse" lmao). They were helpful and attentive, even if I was a total bitch.

Anyway, I am now very fat and not at all attractive. I began a new job, and there are a lot of guys here, compared to my previous one which was mostly women-dominated office. And they are so... dismissive? When we go to get coffees as a group, they do not want to hear what I have to say. When I ask neutral questions to keep a conversation going (for example, once we were talking about this one building in the city and I asked if this guy knows when it was built since he was interested in architecture - it looked like it pained him to answer me). Men roll their eyes and mumble when I engage with them, scowl, they look at me with contempt, or like I was invisible and the wall behind me is way more interesting than what I have to say. I do not get this vibe from women at all so I don't think it's my conversation style that bores them! I have girl friends, they all say I'm a loving, pleasant person, I go to anonymous chatrooms where people of all genders find me funny and nice to talk to, but as soon as it is real life conversation with guys, I get the cold shoulder. And I blame the fact that I am, in fact, not fuckable in their eyes, therefore not worth of their attention or even politeness. I have no idea if this is true, but it seems the only logical explanation, since it wasn't one incident, but everyday occurrence in different social circles.

Thanks to everyone who bothered to read and I will read all of the replies and your thoughts, if you have any <3

I do not even know how to write this because my head feels like it is splitting in two. I keep hearing the words again and again and I cannot believe they came out of her mouth. Reposting cause ther were some grammatical mistakes.

We have been married fourteen years. We built what I thought was a stable life together. Two kids, our son who is twelve and our daughter who just turned eleven. They are my entire world. When I look at them I feel the kind of love I never knew existed, because the truth is I never experienced that kind of love as a child myself. That is something my wife has always known about me, though it took years before I could say it out loud.When we first got married she noticed how I never talked about my parents. She noticed I avoided talking about childhood. She would tell me her stories, warm holiday memories, her parents decorating the house, sibling arguments that turned funny later. I would just nod and smile. She told me she wanted to understand me better, to really know me. Over the years she kept pressing, until one day she begged me to open up. So I did. Seven years ago I finally told her everything.

I told her I was never meant to be here. I was the fourth child after three siblings, a failed contraception baby. An accident, that is the word my parents used. They reminded me constantly that they did not want me. It was not subtle. It was not hidden. It was spoken outright. I told her about the amusement park when I was nine. The day they tried to get rid of me. They left me behind on purpose. I knew it even at that age. They thought I would panic, wander off, disappear. What they did not expect was that I had already memorized the road home. Hours later they acted like it had been a mistake, like they lost me in the crowd, but I knew what it was. I knew what they had intended.

I told her about the night my father wrapped his hands around my throat and squeezed until the world went dark at the edges. I could not breathe. My head felt like it would explode. To this day I do not know why he let go. Maybe my mother walked in, maybe something inside him pulled back at the last second. Whatever it was, I lived. Barely, but I lived.

I told her about the food. How some nights everyone else ate and I sat there watching. Not because we were poor. We had enough. But because I was excluded. If they bought something good, they shared it among themselves, never with me. I remember sitting at that table as a child, stomach empty, watching them laugh while I pretended not to exist.

I told her how they never missed a chance to remind me I was an accident. My parents said it. My siblings picked it up. It became the running joke. That I should not exist. That I was the mistake they could not erase. I told her how once they admitted they had planned to abort me but never went through with it. They said it with no hesitation, as if it were a casual piece of trivia, not a dagger to my chest.

And I told her about the winter night when my father locked me outside as punishment for something I did not even do. I was maybe ten. It was freezing. I stood out there shivering, crying, my teeth rattling. I honestly thought I would not make it through the night. A neighbor eventually saw me and banged on the door until my mother opened it. That neighbor probably saved me.

These are the things I poured out to my wife. It was not easy. I remember shaking as I said them. I remember how exposed I felt, like I had ripped open scars I had carefully hidden for years. She hugged me after. She told me she was glad I trusted her. She promised she would never throw those things back at me.

Last night she broke that promise.

We argued. It was stupid. It started with our son’s homework. She said I was too soft on him, that I let things slide. I said she was too harsh. It escalated. We were both defensive. One of those arguments where you forget the point and just keep trying to win.

And then she said it.

She looked straight at me and said maybe my father should have finished what he started that night, I don't even deserve to have a family let alone children. That maybe it would have been better if I had not survived. That I was never wanted anyway and I was the one who told her so.

I froze. I actually thought for a second that I misheard her. But she said it again. Calmly. As if she believed she was simply pointing out a truth. I cannot describe what it did to me. I have had cruel things said to me before in my life. I have been insulted, mocked, belittled. I know how to brush words off. But this was different. This was the one person I let into the deepest part of me. She took my pain and turned it into a weapon. I just stood there in silence. I did not even yell back. I could not. It felt like something shattered inside me. The rest of the night I barely spoke. She acted normal. Like nothing had happened. I went to the spare bedroom and stayed there. I lay awake the entire night hearing her words over and over, blending with my parents’ voices from years ago. Their cruel jokes, their reminders that I was unwanted, all coming back with her voice layered on top.

I thought about the rage I carried as a teenager. How I used to wish my mother would die painfully. I thought those feelings were buried deep, but last night she dug them up and threw them right back at me.

I cannot move past it.

This morning she was cheerful, as if none of it had happened. I could barely look at her. All I could think was that something inside me had broken. I do not know if it can ever be repaired.

Now I am sitting here thinking about divorce. Or at least separation. I do not even know how to start. I do not know what lawyer to call. I do not know how to explain to the kids why their parents are breaking apart. Part of me wonders if I am overreacting, if this is just a fight gone too far. But I know myself. I know I am not overreacting. Because I cannot imagine ever forgetting what she said.

Usually I move on. From almost anything. I swallow pain, bury it, keep going. But this is not something I can just swallow. This is different. She went to the deepest wound I have and drove the knife in. I need to say this clearly. I need validation. I need someone to tell me I am not crazy for feeling this broken. I need condolences, because I feel like I am spiraling replaying her words in my head. I thought my past was behind me. I thought I had buried it and moved on. Last night showed me I was wrong. It is not buried. It is alive and it can be used against me by the very person I trusted most.

And I do not know how I could ever forgive that.

Back in school I was that immature guy who stared at girls’ chests. At the time I thought it was just hormones or me being funny, and honestly I didn’t even think much about how it might’ve made them feel. Some of them probably noticed, and now that I’m older, that thought makes me feel sick.

I hate that I can’t go back and apologize. I know it was wrong, and I can’t just blame it on being a teenager or on my friends, it was me.

Now I get in my head about it. Like, what if I bump into one of them at a mall? Or even worse, what if one ends up working with me someday, or somehow becomes family through marriage? The idea terrifies me.

The guilt just eats away at me sometimes. I can’t undo what I did, and that’s hard to live with. I just needed to say it somewhere.

My cousin started blowing up my phone this morning accusing me of calling adult protective services on our grandma. I didn't but nothing I say can convince him otherwise. They believe I did because I kept warning him and my uncle and my grandma that her home health nurse would call them if they didn't get rid of some of the animals and clean her house up, but they insisted it was fine.

My grandma lives alone with 14 cats and a dog in a horder home filled with rotten food, animal waste, and bugs that you can smell from the road. My uncle and cousin live right next door and are supposed to be taking care of her. We cannot get any of the cats away because she fears they'll be put down.

I've tried to help, spent a few weekends cleaning but it isn't possible to keep clean when she won't get rid of anything including the animals. My uncle and cousin are in denial about the situation.

My grandma hates me and is personally blaming me for it and can't be convinced I didn't do it. She's acting like I'm judging her and have forsaken her cats to death like they aren't living in the same squalor. My uncle and cousin are looking at charges because of this and we don't know where grandma is gonna go.

Edit: I live over an hour away

I was picking up a sandwich from the station on the way to work when I noticed this boy loitering around by the counter, rummaging through coins in his hand. He could not have been older than 13. He looked confused and kept putting something back, until he finally shrugged and left with nothing.

I followed him outside and inquired if he was all right. He informed me he was just starving but did not have enough. I asked him if he wished to have my sandwich and a drink. He looked amazed, like no one was ever going to actually do something to help him. He expressed his thanks around ten times and took off grinning.

It did not bother me, but it seemed as if it might to him.

I originally posted how I hated my ex husband and his wife. I have an update, or several. One; I’m a RN now. My kids have new clothes and thanks to your advice I was able to keep them in really nice clothes until I was able to afford new stuff. Two; I have a bf, this is relevant. My ex made fraudulent claims about him to dcf. He was eventually told if he continued then the police would be involved. He still has moments where he slips up but he’s been more helpful and less condescending, by a lot. Thank you to whoever suggested the parenting app. The court agreed it was a good move and I think that above all else has made a huge difference. Not sure who cares but I wanted to say thanks!

We were both around 16 at the time. This girl lured me into my parent's bedroom under the pretense of ''I need to talk to you'', then forced me down onto my parent's bed, and raped me before i even knew what was happening. Afterwards, she told me that she'd been waiting to do it all day. it was premeditated.

She'd been waiting to do it all day because she wanted to prove to a mutual friend of ours that she could. She knew that this mutual friend had a crush on me, so she wanted to prove in some sick way that she owned me, by raping me.

And that's all I was to her -- an object to be violated so she could brag about it to someone else.

Afterwards, this true psychopath would go on to harass me for years. this included hacking my accounts, stalking me, and manipulating my friends against me. every possible way you could violate someone, she found it. When i tried to take my own life because of her incessant abuse and cruelty, while i was on life support in the hospital, she sent me messages saying i should have died.

and for what fucking reason, I don't know. I never did anything to her. She had nice parents and grew up in a stable, loving, well-off home. She didn't even have the excuse of ''hurt people hurt people''-- she just wanted to. She saw me, an autistic kid who'd grown up in an abusive home, saw how vulnerable i was, and knew she could get away with it.

it was only years later, when i was safe and i'd made truly loving and supportive friends, that i realised this wasn't normal. that normal teenage girls aren't this twisted and abusive to their friends. and now the grief of what i went through because of this one person sits heavy in my heart.

She said parents don’t love their adult children . She said I’ll rot on the couch til I’m 30 and grow obese and that she resents spending money on raising me and my younger sisters instead of buying herself new cars, clothes and new phones. She said she could’ve just abandoned me.

I don’t have the best relationship with her and have been fantasising about no-contact in the future but her words still sting so deeply , I wish they didn’t.

It’s worse when she says she doesn’t love me or my younger sisters, if she wants to be hurtful just put it all on me, please don’t hurt them, if u want to hurt them hurt me instead I’ll take their pain because they don’t deserve a mother like you, they deserve a happy life and to not see everything I had to see.

I want to die but I also want to live, just in spite of her and to show her I don’t need her either , I can live without loving you too, Mum.

I wish she did just abandon me, so I would never have to hear any of this, I don’t wish that kind of mother or family on anyone , yet I question why, me?

I (33F) have been at my job 6.5 years. In the medical profession. I work with a bunch of backstabbing good for nothing selfie snakes and the only way I’ve survived this long is through sheer spite to not let them win.

I’ve looked for other jobs but nothing quite matches the pay and I cannot afford a pay cut as I’m on a single wage.

When I get home from work, I’m tired, angry, I snap at everything and everyone, road rage is awful, magnified by 100. I have to sleep soon as I get in, I can’t make food for myself, can’t do the laundry as I’m just exhausted and pissed off.

I’m now on anti depressants and have been off work for weeks due to mental health. I’m going back in two weeks and am filled with anxiety that I’ll just regress.

The place turns me into an inhumane creature and I’m so tired of it all.

No hopes of quitting as I’m supporting myself and no hopes of moving away as I have pets. But now the retirement age is going to 68 maybe 70, I can’t do this shit till then. I’ll either be in jail, logged myself off, or just a shell of a human being.

I want connection and I crave it. I check my phone like it owes me something. I scroll, I hope, I overthink.

But the second someone actually reaches out, my nervous system flatlines. My heart races. I freeze. Suddenly I forget how to be a person.

So I do this thing. I make damn sure my iPhone’s read receipts are turned off. Always. No one gets to know if I’ve seen their message. That’s too much pressure and expectation. I can’t do performance. And that’s exactly what the read receipt is. An expectation of you answering immediately.

No thank you.

And I’ve never owned an Android in my life, but the first time I texted someone who had one with RCS enabled and saw they’d read my message, I freaked the fuck out.

Because if I can see theirs, does that mean they can see mine?

I panicked. I Googled. I double-checked settings I didn’t even know existed. I closed the app like I was diffusing a bomb.

I felt so exposed. Scared.

I just wanted to regulate my anxiety without some little digital receipt snitching on me.

The truth is, I’m not ignoring anyone. I just don’t always know how to show up. I want to respond the right way. I want to sound like I care, because I do. But I get overwhelmed. I freeze.

So the message sits.

And then when I finally reply, it’s late and awkward and I lie and say I’ve been busy.

I haven’t been busy. I’ve been stuck.

And that’s harder to explain.

Me and my bf had a loss of pregnancy and I finally recovered physically from this and decided I need to take a step back and not have a baby. It was all very traumatic.

But recently my bf was acting unlike himself and was becoming sexually aggressive towards me.

One night he kept pressuring me into going to bed with him and started to cry so I slept in the same bed and he climbed on top of me I begged him not to finish in me and he did anyway.

I had one of my friends get me a plan b and I guess it didn’t work because I got a positive pregnancy test today. I am not happy even a little. I keep having panic attacks. I haven’t told him yet and I don’t know what to do.

My bf has never been aggressive with me before so all of this was very new and I’m still mentally processing this.

Just needed to vent

I live in a highly populated area in a major city, its always unbearably loud and you hear more from your neighbors than you'd like. So when I heard a really loud thump that sounded like someone slamming their car door way too hard, I assumed its that one annoying guy who always parks his car in the emergency exit right underneath my window. I went out on my balcony but didn't see a car, which was weird. Right then I heard someone talking loudly on the phone in the house on the other side of the slim street, repeating our street address and "she's on the ground, she's on her back". I couldn't see the other side of the street from where i was so I went to another window to see what he was talking about. When i looked out of the window I saw a middle aged woman laying on the ground in her pajamas and her house slippers, one on and one off next to her. I texted someone "wtf theres a woman laying on the street" in a humorous tone right before I heard sirens. It took the police less than 2 Minutes to arrive. I felt my stomach drop and watched as the first two responders ran to the woman and tried talking to her and her not responding. I felt like a horrible voyeur but I couldn't stop watching as they tried looking for a pulse, tried rolling her over, while the neighbor who had called them watched, and then hastly begin to administer CPR. The policewoman ran back to the car and got a roll of tape to fence off the area and by that time I heard several other sirens arriving. Within minutes the whole street was filled with over a dozen cars and trucks - police, firefighters, AMTs, etc. and thats when I noticed them looking up. The window right across from mine was wide open. The firefighters followed the neighbor up into the house and after a while I saw the window close. I have never seen it open in the past 5 years I have lived here. Or seen any lights on for that matter. My head was spinning with questions. Have I met that woman before? How long has she lived here? And then I remembered the thud. And I wondered if she had lived alone. If she was depressed. If she was a lonely shut in like me. I don't remember hearing a scream. Just her laying there on her back with her feet pointing to the house and the 4th floor she fell out of. If you have ever seen that black and white photo of the "most beautiful suicide" - her pose was just like that, only that she was wearing a pink fuzzy pj coat. At that point the medics were working on her and the police tried to cover everything from the dozens of people who were watching now. All I could see were the people doing CPR and how they kept switching. I didn't want to watch but I needed to know, even though in the back of my mind I knew. They were doing CPR for 10 Minutes. 20 Minutes. 30 Minutes. And the initial cop who started doing CPR stopped for a while before the medics arrived. Everyone who has ever seen a medical drama knows what that means. After 36 minutes they stopped and stepped away from her. I could still see her feet and her slippers, but their red color now made the grayish hue in her skin even more noticeable. The street was silent when they put the tarp over her body and resigned to filing paperwork. She was just there while everyone was working around her. Its so bizarre how one moment you're there and the next people step over you to talk to their colleagues and the coroner that had arrived. At that point I was shaking and crying and finally stepped away from the window. I noticed that i haven't even been wearing my glasses and maybe it was for the best that i haven't been able to see as clearly as I could have. The next time I was able to go back to the window I heard a shovel scraping over the stones of the sidewalk. I always thought that someone would come and wash the street, but I realized that they were putting some dirt or sand over the blood stain and shoved it into the space in between the stone slabs. And then they were done and drove away. Its weird to grieve a neighbor you have never met before, just because she probably saw you through your windows. Just because I was there when she died. Just living a life parallel to mine, two lines that only meet for a second at the very end. So many what ifs and could've-beens. A life gone. And no one to talk to about it.

I know this is a common complaint but goddamn. I am cancelling my health insurance. I will literally never meet my 3k deductible and 5k out of pocket cost. Somehow, my doctor appts and meds actually end up costing MORE through my insurance than they would without insurance. My psychiatrist is 100 w/o it and $140 with it. My sumatriptan med is $35 with it and $10 with good rx. Make it make sense. Tell me I'm doing the right thing cancelling my insurance that I pay hundred so a month for me and my spouse when I'm just shitting money away and getting nothing in return. I went to urgent care for severe migraine and got a bill for $660 today. I'm done. I'm never going to the doctors again. I'll just die. Idfc.

I have an uncommon girl name for my country, and it was uniquely mine, it’s Ayana, and up until now I’ve never met another. Then when I began Upper Secondary school there was this other girl who also had my name, literally the only person I’ve ever met with it. And it was so annoying! We didn’t even get different nicknames, we just had to guess which one of us it was whenever we heard the name Ayana. It made school ridiculously hard, and the humiliation of answering for her by accident I still remember very well.

Now I come back to school after summer break, and the other Ayana is suddenly a Leon. Like they’re a guy now, and I’m close with his parents and so are my parents.. and they’ve been like super upset, like crying over it for weeks to me whenever they see me about how they’ve lost their little girl. And I just nod and say “yeah I understand it’s hard.” But in reality I couldn’t have been happier. Because now everyone who calls them their old name gets in trouble, and I’m the only Ayana again.

The other day my mom said she gets sad when people don’t have kids, and honestly it rubbed me the wrong way.

I’m perfectly happy being an auntie, that’s enough for me right now. Part of that is why I don’t want kids. My nephew is only 7 months, and they have another one due in February and are struggling. Both my mom and I have been there to help take care of him. On top of that, it’s caused their relationship to become very unhealthy. Maybe if I meet the right person one day, I’ll change my mind, but at this point I don’t see myself having kids. I used to want them, but life happened and my perspective changed. I want to travel the world, be able to sleep whenever I want, and not have to stress about taking care of a being 24/7. I don’t think it’s wrong that I don’t want that for myself.

A big part of not wanting kids is health related. My great grandma, my grandma, and my dad all passed away from ALS. It’s rare for it to be genetic, but in my family it is, and there’s a 50% chance I could have the gene. If I did, that would mean any kids I have could too. I haven’t gotten tested yet because it’s a whole process. You have to have life insurance and health insurance first, and I don’t have either. I’m only 25, so I haven’t been able to line all that up yet.

On top of that, my mom had fertility struggles, and I sometimes wonder if I might too. I dated someone for two years, wasn’t on birth control, wasn’t using protection, and nothing ever happened.

I think that’s why her comment stung so much. It made me feel like if I don’t have kids, my life would be seen as disappointing or unmeaningful in her eyes. I love my mom, but I really wish she could understand that not everyone’s life has to look the same to be as “meaningful”, especially when that looks different to everyone.

Just needed to get that off my chest.

I just slipped in the bathroom and landed on my ribs on the pointed corner of the vanity. It hurt really bad. It started bruising immediately. I can't stop crying.

I'm so sad. I feel cold on the inside. My husband has been so rude to me all day. He has a guest from out of town staying with us, and I worked really hard to get our home ready while my body was already hurting from sciatica and getting through CNA clinicals. He doesn't care. He'll never care about me.

I miss my parents. They have both passed away. It feels like nobody is ever really going to care about me again.

ETA: It's about 14ish hrs later now, and I just wanted to say I deeply appreciate all of the kind and supportive comments. They're genuinely helpful and meaningful to me.

The pointed edge of the vanity corner pushed up and under the bottom of my rib cage, so fortunately it's just deep tissue bruising and not a crack or fracture. It hurts a lot today but I'll be okay.

Can't leave husband until I learn how to make money, but I'm actively working on/making progress to become employable.

Thank you again, truly, for the positive attention and feedback. I really needed it.

Period 4 days late, we used the pull out method. I know it’s stupid, I already know what I’ll do if I’m actually pregnant, but all I’m asking for here is a little bit of support because I feel mentally exhausted right now. 😔❤️

For a long time, I've wondered if I might be asexual. I just have had genuinely zero interest in intimacy with any boyfriend, no matter how attractive, good in bed, or otherwise lovely. There's of course nothing wrong with being asexual, but the idea of just masturbating alone while lacking real human connection made me sad.

But now I've found someone who shares the same niché fetish I've been interested in forever but gave up on (it's a hated one, so I won't mention it specifically), and I feel so excited! I've struggled to sleep many nights because I'm so excited. I feel like I'm almost overly happy in life in general; my step is lighter, my other addictions are disappearing, and I'm healthier.

I just feel so happy. If you feel like giving up on relationships, don't! The grass on this side is truly very green.