So I'm 22, and like all kids I had kinda of high ambitions for myself when I was younger but I've spend the past 4-5 years doing nothing to progress my life at all. This past month has been one of the worst I can remember. Always suffered with mental health issues but November was tough, felt dejected and demotivated, had to take time off uni. My mum and stepdad split up after about 15 years of being together, uni is hell and I detest it completely. I have done no uni work whatsoever. Been too scared to even check the deadline for assignments, but I already know for certain I've missed one, with the other two either already passed or will soon. It's not for a lack of trying. Last week I had a long overdue neurological examination which ended with a formal diagnosis of autism. It explains alot, socially I'm inept and when it comes to concentrating on mundane or uninteresting subjects, I might aswell not even try. I wish I'd have had the examination when I was in my teens because now I'm now tens of thousands of pounds in student debt, probably on the verge of being kicked out of uni, and have no life skills and no social life. As cringe and depressing as it is, the only enjoyment I get in life is from playing video games, I wouldn't have admitted this previously but I will now, I'm completely addicted to them. Simply put, you could argue that the transition to adult life has been a tough one. Now I sit here dwelling on what my life could've been had I had an examination earlier and actually got the support I need because I can't help but feel it's too late for me.

If you think you have traits that are common amongst autistic people then just please get in touch with a doctor or specialist because the last thing you want is for your world to come crashing down like mine has. If you're worried about the stigma around it or judgemental people, don't be. At the end of the day, the only people who will ever know are the people you want to.

I carry extreme remorse and immense guilt for the pain and suffering I caused Rae. I sat down with her last night, we had a good conversation, and she relieved some of my guilt, she told me she’s not upset with me, she doesn’t blame me, and she forgives me, which is hard for me to believe. She was still in pain, but nothing near as bad as the event, and she was in good spirits, not sarcastic or rude. I was extremely relieved. I’m glad she’s feeling better now, but I’m still at war with myself for putting her through excruciating mental and physical pain, as well as killing my own flesh and blood.

As much as I disagree with it, I had to support her decision and do right by Rae 100%. My conscience is clear in the aspect that I took ownership and responsibility for my actions, instead of leaving her on her own to deal with all of this. It’s time for me to look forward, not back, and square away the remaining guilt. This won’t be easy for me, as I’m harder on myself than anyone else ever will be.

I wish I had a father I could talk to about life’s worst moments, but I don’t. It’s times like these when I really need fatherly advice. I don’t know quite how to move forward with dad, it’s not my cross to bear, but I want nothing more than to have a relationship with him. My mom is an absolute saint and my best friend, she and I have dealt with dad together, so we both have each others back when it comes to him. She’s always been there for me when I need advice or someone to simply listen to how I’m feeling.

I often think about the first time this happened and all the stark differences between the two situations. The first time I wasn’t able to be there with her because I was in the military, I started drinking heavy, I made bad financial decisions, we both wanted a baby, she was on birth control, we were both 19. This time I’m 30, we both decided together we didn’t want kids, I quit drinking, she wasn’t on birth control, I live close to her. We will both carry this for the rest of our lives, even as a memory if we do both manage to square this with ourselves as individuals.

I have much respect for Rea, as she isn’t holding anything over my head, she’s been respectful and understanding, and she understands I had no malicious intent. She went through intense physical pain during the event, it was not fun for her whatsoever, but she stood up, and brushed herself off. I Miss her… I miss her gentle, yet reassuring voice, I miss her touch, I miss the way she fit in my arms so perfectly, the way she kissed me, the way she looked into my eyes. I know I’ll never be able to be with her because I can’t let myself get close to her again. I can’t hurt her anymore.

My self guilt makes me want to kill myself… it tells me I’m not worthy of this life, I don’t deserve to live after what I’ve done, that people would be better off without me here, that it’s the only way I can make amends. I often think about seppuku, and that if we existed in Japanese culture, I would have killed myself a long time ago. Even though I wouldn’t want anyone to find me in a state of ruin, I would destroy my very likeness, my facade would be unrecognizable, incapable of reparation, ripped apart and torn to shreds, just like I’ve done to her innocence and purity.

I never would have gotten her pregnant had we never met, yet I long for deep personal connection with a woman who cares for me as deeply as I care for her, I love fast and I love deep, I easily invest more of my time in my partner than I do myself, which keeps me on my toes, but can also wear me down, quickly. I often move too fast because I know exactly what I want, I just don’t always want to take my time to get there, which is an important step. I know how to be alone, it’s very easy day to day, but I crave intimacy and closeness with another person, I crave interaction with one person all the time, so I’m constantly trying to scratch that itch. Maybe I need to be single for awhile before I get involved with anyone again, or maybe it’ll help me put this situation in the past for good. Either way, I’m a fucking savage animal whose days upon this earth are numbered.

I still suck my thumb. I've been doing it since i was a literal toddler. When my mom was trying to wean me off my pacifier and bottle, i told her i would just suck my thumb instead. Its something that ive never gave up. It is the most comforting thing in the world to me. When I suck my thumb it makes rhythmic noises in my head. It's predictable its calming. I struggle with my thoughts being too loud, too fast to keep up with. but when i suck my thumb it settles it down. I focus on the rhythm. Its not sexual. I never get any type of pleasure its just calming. I do some other weird stuff. things that little children do to comfort themselves that i never grew out of. It is such an embarrassing secret.

I am (M)14. I’ve been making myself throw up. I just eat a bunch of food and throw up in my bathroom. It sounds silly and ridiculous but I really don’t like my classmates. Theyre always so loud and it makes my head hurt. So I’ve been doing this so I don’t go to school. I don’t have a lot of school work to do and I can finish it quickly. It’s a school for disability so the works really easy to finish. I sometimes do it to release emotional stress. I’m on the autism spectrum so I get overwhelmed easily and so when I get stressed or overwhelmed I excuse my self to the bathroom and and puke there.

Where I work, we’ve long had Casual Fridays, but with hybrid working, very few people are actually in on Fridays anymore, so already relaxed standards are effectively being relaxed even further. Since the 2000s are back, my friend and I came up with the idea of dressing like our teenage selves to relive our glory days. For extra fun, we’d keep the exact outfits a surprise until we were in the office.

Come Friday morning, I picked out some tight jeans I hadn’t worn in a few years, a belt, and an older hoodie. These went into my work bag to change into later, as I had some boring meetings to dial into from my desk in the morning, and knowing that my friend would probably not be available until afternoon due to her schedule.

Sure enough, she was slammed until late afternoon, so we figured we’d go for a stroll downstairs when her last meeting finished and maybe pick up a snack or drink from the supermarket inside our building.

About twenty minutes before we were due to meet at her desk, I was well and truly done for the day, and nobody was even left on my floor, so I went to get changed. Happily, the hoodie fit perfectly over my T-shirt, but the jeans…

As a late millennial guy, I was no stranger to wearing tight jeans in my youth. We were, after all, the skinny jeans generation. The problem is that, while I like to think that I take OK care of myself, I am very much not eighteen anymore, and it was immediately apparent that I was desperately out of practice.

So there I was, safely behind a locked door, standing in the middle of an immaculate accessible lavatory with only a T-shirt on, trying to squeeze myself into tighter-than-skin-tight jeans. The clock was ticking and I wasn’t about to chicken out of this, so I gingerly pulled the jeans up my legs bit by bit, and was eventually able to get them on. Luckily, this pair had a bit of stretch. I’ve always believed that the pockets make or break the way your arse looks in tight jeans, so I made sure to pull my jeans all the way up. Since I wasn’t wearing any underwear, I arranged my gentlemanly bits in front before zipping up, chucked my Converse back on and then popped on the belt and zipped up my hoodie. It all fit perfectly, with the bottom of my hoodie just touching the top of my belt, and the dark green hoodie contrasting nicely against my light grey jeans.

Looking in the mirror, I could almost believe it was 2009 again. (The fact I still have a side parting helps.)

Five minutes to go. I dropped my bag back off at my desk, mildly amused that the motion-sensor lights had started to switch off, and let my friend know via chat that I was coming up to her desk.

To get to my friend’s desk, I have to go up two lifts via an intermediate floor. This involves a bit of walking, and this is where the trouble started. Not only was I out of practice, but my bits were definitely no longer used to what you might call, with apologies to Fall Out Boy, the friction in my jeans. By the time I got into the second lift, I had a semi down my left leg, and with the jeans gently wanking it, it was getting stiffer with each step. On top of this, the centre seam cut deep into my arse crack, and the pressure from that added to the overall sense of being constantly stimulated.

I was well and truly committed by this point, so I soldiered on and mercifully made it to my friend’s desk without running into anyone, trying (and failing) to ignore the full-blown hard-on I had downstairs.

I said hi, and my friend spun around in her chair to face me. She looked me up and down, coughed lightly and said, “Nice jeans.”

“Thanks.”

“They’re very tight,” she continued. “I think your jeans might be tighter than mine.” She locked her computer and rose to show me her own outfit of a slightly cropped polo neck jumper in maroon and impressively low-rise (and skin-tight) dark wash bootcut jeans, plus nude heels. “What d’you think?”

“Fantastic,” I said. “Love the Olivia Munn look.”

This elicited an appreciative chuckle and a flick of her shoulder-length hair, and with that, we headed over to the lifts to head down for our break. Walking again meant that the friction resumed, and I felt my cock twitch. My friend was trailing me and saw nothing.

Our lift doors are mirror-finished, kept immaculate by our cleaners. This is convenient for noticing that you’ve spilt a bit of coffee on your shirt, but is especially useful for two people to stand side-by-side to examine each other’s outfits. We did this as we waited for our lift, and seeing my straining bulge reflected back to me did nothing to calm matters down.

As we stepped into the thankfully empty lift, I heard my friend say, “Oh.”

Not only do our lifts also have mirror-finished walls, but they have excellent lighting inside too. In this reflection, I could see to my horror that a small wet spot had appeared at the very tip of my cock.

“Dude, is that—”

It was definitely pre-cum. “Sorry, I—”

“Wow, you really like wearing these jeans, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m just not used to them anymore.”

“Mm.”

We made it out of our secure area and into the food court without further incident, though, and went to the supermarket to see what snacks or drinks were on sale. We ambled around looking for and comparing deals, and generally did not move around in any particular hurry. The feeling of being wanked off by my jeans eased into something less threatening, and I was able to comment on the crisps and biscuits like a normal human being. Nothing really jumped out at me, but my friend selected some Pringles, so we paid for them and left.

“Did you want to sit down for a bit?”

I explained that my jeans were far too tight to attempt to sit down in.

“That’s OK, we can head back up.”

So we did, but picking up pace on foot meant picking up pace in my jeans. While the sensation of being wanked in one’s jeans is not an unpleasant one, this was neither the time nor the place, and I tried my best to ignore it. This was harder (mind the pun) than I anticipated, as I could feel my cock throbbing and leaking more pre-cum.

As we swiped back into our secure area, I realised that I was in real trouble now. My lift door reflection told me everything I needed to know, and out of the corner of my eye I could see a faint smirk on my friend’s lips. I hoped to the high heavens that I could get back to my desk before "it" happened.

The lift arrived and we stepped in, and the friction from that pushed my overheated cock over the edge.

As the doors closed behind us, my hands flew up to cover my mouth as I let out a strangled yelp. My cock lurched and I felt a small but forceful squirt of cum shoot out as I started to ejaculate. I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my arse as tightly as I could, but it did nothing as I helplessly felt my cock continue to jerk rhythmically as it pumped more and more cum, filling my skin-tight jeans.

After a few seconds, as the shooting subsided, I opened my eyes again to survey the damage. With no underwear to contain things, the wet spot down my left leg was now huge and glistening.

“Jesus, did you just… finish?”

“Yeah, fuck, I’m so sorry, I—”

My friend simply burst out laughing. “I can’t believe I just watched you cum in your jeans.”

The lift doors opened and my heart plummeted as I realised I was on her floor, not mine. A wave of humiliation suddenly hit me.

Stepping out of the lift, I immediately started grasping at straws. “Um,” I asked in barely a whisper, “can you help me walk back down to my floor?”

“What d’you mean?” came the equally hushed response.

“Can I, like, walk behind you so you can shield me?”

“Dude, that’s not gonna work. Your cum stain is so massive you can’t hide it behind me unless you’re, like, super close, and I don’t want your cum on my ass.”

I opened my mouth and nothing came out.

“Just like, cover it with your hoodie or whatever.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I’ve got Pringles to enjoy and a couple more emails to send out, so have fun. Talk to you on chat,” she said, sashaying away, and that was that.

I unzipped my hoodie and took it off, holding it in front of my crotch as nonchalantly as I could, and bolted back down to my desk. By some miracle, I managed to make it back to my desk to grab my bag and then to the same accessible lavatory to get changed back into my much looser original outfit without running into anyone. It didn't bear thinking about what could've happened had I run into someone in such a state.

Suffice to say, I think these jeans will stay home for the foreseeable future.

tl;dr Wore tight jeans for the first time in forever, got a hard-on and was slowly wanked off by the friction they caused, and came in my jeans in front of a female friend.

This is my first post so sorry if it’s not the right format. background; When I started going to the gym (I was 16), I was learning how to use all the fun cardio equipment. I was planning on using the stairmaster which was directly located in front of all of the small cubicles where personal trainers would help clients.

Onto the story! 16-year-old me just got done with her first workout. I thought I would do the stairstepper to be unique I guess I don’t know. There was literally a sign that said “DO NOT USE” as the stair stepper was currently being fixed. My anxiety was so high, and I was so nervous that I got on set stairstepper and started “stepping”. Of course, a horrible crunching sound ensued, and it took my brain a total of five seconds to realize what I was doing. meanwhile, I look around and there’s five people who are staring at me and I actually wanted to die. Looking back I still don’t know what compelled me to do this, but I ran out of there so fast. I did end up continuing to go to that gym, but man, I actually have secondhand embarrassment thinking about it.

There is so much to this I can't possibly fit it all in here for now, but I just badly have to talk about this with someone.

So growing up I had a rough childhood with parents being split up my whole life, mainly living with my mum. She was an alcoholic/drug addict and couldn't cope with being a single mum. With parties always at the house, and her being absent, lots of traumatic things happened to not just me, but us. Being left by myself from as early as I can remember, or being dragged to the pub when I wasn't tall enough to sit on the stools.

Long story short, when I turned about 14 I had enough and moved out into a drug-den house basically with my all my young mates, and some older ones. We all just dropped out of school. Fucked up our minds with every drug under the sun from then onwards, until I was about 21 which I when I stopped doing amphetimines every day. Since then I've turned into a SEVERE alcoholic, worse than I was because I was mainly into drugs. I patched things up my mum and she's doing great now.

Look, anyway I'll cut to the chase, I caught up with my mother a few weeks ago (I'm 26 now) and got extremely drunk, like blackout, and we had a big cry and finally talked about all the fucked up shit that happened all those years ago. I then fully blacked out and fell asleep in the spare room. I half-woke up in almost like a dream state I was so half asleep. To her cuddling into me and kissing me etc, and before I know it we're kissing eachother. Sex almost happened but there was some words exchanged I can't remember. After that it's extremely blurry, I might have gotten oral sex off her I honestly don't know. But you guys know that feeling the next morning like something has happened.

For days I thought it must have been a messed up dream. We all have disturbing, wrong ones like that from time to time and I tried not to think much of it. Until today, I've seen she has blocked me. And my world just feels like it's caving in. I feel sick to my stomach, and I literally cannot talk to anyone in my whole life about this. I am so worried about how I will be looked at. This is not meant to be kinky or whatever I am genuinely fucking distraught. I feel like the best thing at the moment, is to do absolutely nothing and move on with no contact.

I was addicted to uppers (coke and MDMA mainly) for almost 10 years. I’m about a year and a half sober. Never did downers besides when I was in the hospital and was given fentanyl. When I got it there, I immediately knew why people do it. My former roommate overdosed on fentanyl, and I would never touch it… but last night I watched requiem for a dream (for like the third time), and I thought about how peaceful it must be to not give a fuck? I know it sounds bad. I’ve sat here since last night thinking about it. I remember when D.A.R.E came to middle school preaching about how bad drugs were and I sat there thinking how much I wanted to do them. And as soon as I turned 18, I’ve pretty much been an addict. I’ve had a few surgeries and have been prescribed percs, and have never taken them because I know better.

I’ve been sober and don’t plan on jeopardizing that, but how do you get those thoughts out of your head? Being an addict is so fucking hard and I don’t wish it upon my worst enemy. There’s been soooo many times I want to just say fuck it. My husband’s dad died of a heroin OD so I don’t want to say this to him, which is why I’m here. He’s not a drug addict and never has been. I just really needed to get it off my chest.

To all the addicts, I love you and I feel you. We’re in this together

Edit: sometimes watching tv shows and movies about drugs or with drug scenes in them really trigger me, and that’s what this is. I have no intention of relapsing and fucking up my sobriety. Thank you everyone for the kind words. Now it’ll have to be a while before I watch anything drug related again 😅

I have no cash in my wallet. Seemed like the only move. I’ll replace it.

I love my mom so much. Last year she had a major stroke (she's basically fully recovered. Just some very slight, and not very noticeable, dexterity issues with her hand). She's had a hard time remembering some things or mixed things up, but she had come a long way. My oldest sister, who's a diagnosed narcissist and an overall bad person, loves Stitch from LILO and Stitch. My mom ever since her stroke has mistakenly thought that Stitch is my favorite character. I will never tell her otherwise. This is a secret I will take to my grave. I will love Stitch because I love my mom way more than any small mistake that she could ever make. I love my mom so much

I used to have a job when I was younger where I needed to enter people's houses and do work. I learned some women are pretty open and not all are shy. Some days I miss that job.

Recently got broken up with (not for any particular reason) I started self reflecting on my feelings and behaviors. Ultimately realizing I didn’t get affection when I was younger so I search for it in people who aren’t a good match for me

I just went out with some friends and they parked at my apartment. They were going to get an Uber home but came inside to smoke real quick. I didn’t really think much of the state of my place but they lost it and made jokes the whole time about how dirty it was. Didn’t even want to sit down anywhere or hangout, I could tell the wish they never came inside. I do struggle with depression and that’s a big part of it. I feel so exhausted by the smallest tasks sometimes. I personally didn’t think it was that bad but I also know I’m used to it because this was also how I grew up. I want to change don’t get me wrong it’s just hard to break a cycle. Just feeling so embarrassed and lost.

Desde que comenzó mi adolescencia he tenido la gran impresión de que, para los ojos masculinos, no soy atractiva. Yo honestamente me siento bien conmigo, me considero bonita y no tengo una personalidad pesada (mido 5’6, soy morena y mis facciones son relativamente armoniosas), pero desde que tengo memoria los hombres no se fijan en mí de manera romantica. para ellos, siempre soy la que tiene amigas bonitas y me hablan únicamente para que se las presente, con mis amigos es algo similar; pues mayormente me piden consejos de chicas. No me gusta admitirlo, pero me da un poco de envidia que a mis amigas les pidan sus números y yo ser la que se queda atrás en ese sentido. Las pocas veces que he intentado interactuar con hombres que me parecen físicamente atractivos, me han rechazado en lo absoluto, por lo que ahora que tengo interés en alguien me aterra tomar la iniciativa: tengo miedo al rechazo. ¿Qué puedo hacer? no quiero cambiar como soy solo para gustarle a los hombres.

I got really lucky with a “memecoin” and turned $180 into $3000

I took $1500 to the banks and kept $1500 in a crypto wallet.

I took $70 and went to Stake and turned that $70 into $490

Instead of taking my winnings I lost it all and kept doubling up.

Yes I know this is house money I was playing with technically but it sucks losing $500

Felt like I lost control of myself and very guilty

I know people with stories much much much worse with gambling addiction but I just wanted to tell someone bc I’m ashamed to tell anyone close to me

I don’t think this will become a habit or anything but it’s been ruminating in my head for the last 6-8 hours

It had my first expierence with a man 4 years ago he gave me oral and it took me until now to Admit I liked and would be open to trying that again!

During ovulating I swear my sex drive is in the sky , not in every cycle thank God. But this one was very intense perhaps the cough syrop I was taking had something to do with that . I don't want to feel this way any girls here that feel the same?

The other night I was finally able to kiss the girl I have been pursing for a few months! Her hands were all over me and I can still feel her phantom touches when I think about her. Part of me is worried though because this event happened while we both had had some drinks throughout the night. What if she only kissed me because she was drunk?

She had begun getting touchy/more bold much earlier in the night, about 1-2 drinks into the evening, so I’m trying to remain hopeful that she really does like me like that.

I get to see her again tomorrow and I’m going to try and be a little more touchy with her than normal (small touches, nothing major) and see how she responds to me.

God I like her so so much, I can’t get her out of my head. The way her lips felt on mine, the way she looked into my eyes, her hands running up and down my thighs. Fuck. Even writing this is giving me butterflies. I’ve known her for a little over a year now, had a crush on her for about 5-6 months, had everyone telling me that she liked me back for the last month or so.

I really hope things go over well tomorrow, that she wasn’t just all over me because of the alcohol. She’s a bit more of a shy person so hopefully if I make the first move tomorrow things will just fall into place.

God she’s so beautiful. Ugh. I sound like a lovestruck teenager (I’m in my mid-twenties), but I can’t help it. She’s just so amazing. Not perfect of course, but who is? Ugh. I just can’t get those feelings off of my body. I wish we had done some more that night but it wouldn’t have felt right having Sex while we were both pretty drunk.

Maybe in the future? Hopefully in the future. Ugh. Fuck. My heart man, I just can’t take it. I can’t wait to see her tomorrow.

Small edit: just so everyone can kind of get a bit more context, she’s been sending me some small signals here and there over the past month or so. A sly comment here or there or her eyes lingering on me for longer than a heartbeat. Took me so long to do something because I wasn’t sure if I was just imagining everything or not. Don’t wanna fuck it up yknow? She’s so incredible I just want to make her as happy as possible.

Idk if I should actually lay this here.

You read the title correctly. I, in an action of apathy and selfless stupidity. Had intercourse with a man older than me today.

TW: ||S/A , grooming, bullying ||

I feel like I'm going insane, and I don't want to bottle anymore emotions , in fear of getting an outburst or hurting myself. I'm afraid also that I have created said situation by myself from my apathy and lack of self-care. I won't lie . I lack confidence. I will only narrate the what happened this today. I want an exterior opinion so I won't fall into an episode again

Today I had a bad argument withy mother(I tend to be extreme with my emotions, but I never verbally or physically act on it), eventually I left for 3-4h to avoid confrontation, and stranded on the top of a bridge where nobody could see. I contemplate my life as I looked at the high sight of the bridge. A stranger tried to save me and I stepped down. He later offered me a coke to cool down. He kept leaning closer to me as we went into the cafe. Eventually making an sub contextual advance. I knew what was the intention of that stranger, and I warned him that I wasn't stupid and I knew what he wanted (|| he was 51, I was a minor||) yet I though I had nothing left to lose so I went with it. Knowing exactly what was his intentions. I thought that I would cool down if I had ||intercourse|| to distract me. Basically giving the guy what he fully wanted even though I knew 100% the severity of my and his actions (and intentions) . I can't look at myself in the mirror again, and I'm starting to think my mother was correct about me never changing. ( ||I had a previous experience with this sort of illegal activities when I was much younger 5-9 doing it with older person||) That had completely scarred me at that age , as I was not aware, but now I was fully aware, I don't why I did this, I don't know why I accepted this. This time it is completely my fault alone, I re-traumatized myself for no reason except to distract myself. Now I feel even more need to [||self-delete||] myself . (And no I am not a women)

ابي توصيات لكتب اطفال بعمر ال١٠ سنين روايات مثلا او قصص

I'm terrible at explaining stories or situations, so sorry in advanced. I met this guy online and we hit it off pretty quick. Hes got some baggage, but don't we all? He originally flirted with me, and then next morning he says he got with another girl (his bb mama). Who he originally talked shit about!!!

So he says he wants to remain friends and talk. So I stick around because I haven't had anyone to talk to lately.After two days of awkward heys and how are yous, he brings up him and his bbmama. Saying she's being distant, ditches him, etc. so I convinced him to flat line her with "I need affection or I'm out" and guess what, she never texts back! lollllll

So here he is telling me he deserves someone that makes him happy. And obviously knows I'm attracted to him, whips me in with sweet talking. Manic depressed me eats it up. That lasted 2 days and then he started to be somewhat careless? Telling me he's going to get high on something that has caused heart issues in the past.

I'm no stranger to substance abuse. What he doesn't know I shoot up grams of fentanyl everyday. But I'm not ready to share that information with him yet. So I act worried. And he replies so dismissive. "Oh I'm getting kidnapped" With no reference. I'm just like what... Hes going to hang out with his friends. Okay whatever I'm gonna do me.

Fast forward to this morning and he doesn't message me. And I'm used to seeing his face early. So I message him and apologize for being dramatic yesterday. And he just continues to be short with me. So at this point, I'm heated from lack of sleep and depression and I told him, "what exactly are you wanting from this relationship?". Which I now regret doing.

He says "IDK.. I really like talking to you a lot. And you really cheer me up." I know this is such a stupid thing to be upset over but I cried. What was the point of leading me on? Especially when he knows I'm going through allot right now. He says he's busy, his grandmother fell... I JUST lost a very close mother figure in my life but I still made face. I just really hate me.

It's been almost two years since I last talked to him, and I know I probably never will again. I don’t have any photos, screenshots, or messages to look back on. I deleted everything, even my old accounts, thinking it would help me move on. But here I am, still searching his name from time to time. Just a name that brings back so many memories, so much guilt, and a lot of feelings I can’t seem to let go of.

It’s hard to understand how I got so attached to someone I never even met or saw in real life. I could walk right past him on the street and not even know it was him. Sometimes I wonder where he is now, what he’s doing, if he’s moved on—I’m sure he has. I don’t blame him. It was my fault, and I know I don’t deserve to ask him to come back or even talk to me again. It was never meant to be... he was the right person at the wrong time.

There’s no chance he’ll ever be part of my life again but i still can’t bring myself to listen to the songs that remind me of those days. Life hasn’t been the same since, and I’m nowhere close to where I thought I’d be by now. I don’t know what to call this—maybe it’s just another phase I’ll have to get through. And hopefully, with time, I will.

So I experienced a rude person when I was in a drive through getting food. I was in the car with my cousin as we were about to go somewhere. It happened at around 10AM we were getting breakfast. At the menu we were saying what we wanted and then drove up to the window. The woman had such an unnecessary nasty attitude. First of all she looked HORRIBLE. You can tell she was still sleep, and she looked like she didn’t have any hygiene and just woke up out of bed and got dressed. And then when she handed us our food she handed it over in an aggressive way and she was literally spitting as she was talking.

My cousin looked through the bag and we didn’t have all the food. So he started telling her what we were missing. She slammed the door and went to the back to give us what we were missing. And again when she handed us that food she was aggressive. My cousin said “dang, she got an attitude!” I didn’t even know if I should even eat the food because she was spitting. I just don’t understand the unnecessary attitude.

My initial experience with drug use began in 2020. To sustain my new habit, I started selling pills. This marked the onset of the worst year of my life.

I became a pill dealer offering home deliveries and I was earning enough to cover my $7,000 monthly drug expenses. I sold pharmaceutical narcotics with Oxy being my top-selling product.

Using Oxy spiraled into a full-fledged addiction and signaled the decline of my brief but intense stint as a drug dealer because the laziness it induced made me incapable of maintaining my sales.

By the start of 2021, I had hit rock bottom. I was back living with my parents as I had spent all my money and found myself heavily in debt. I’m still residing with my parents rent-free, having recently completed community service for a DUI sentence and gradually settling my debts.

A few months ago, I began my journey to sobriety, though it's been challenging. Currently, I’m three weeks clean and have started my recovery.

I need to confess something I joined a new school about a year and a half ago and made new friends. These friends are very different from the ones I had in school. Among my new friends, there are two girls I was close to initially. Let me tell you about them. The first girl was good at first, but things changed during our class 11 exams. She started behaving strangely, constantly telling me things like, "You're going to do great in the exams," and then saying, "I couldn’t study because I was sick." She would ignore me for days and then, in front of everyone, accuse me of ignoring her, making it look like I was the bad one. She would act jealous or weirdly sometimes. For example, when many seniors and classmates interacted with me when I first joined, she said things like, "Everyone talks to you, but not to me." To avoid making her feel bad, I even distanced myself from some of those people. During exams, if she was given a task, she would make sarcastic comments like, "Oh, you know everything." It felt unsettling. The second girl is even more peculiar. Both girls used to study at the same school earlier ,and although they pretended to be friends, they would gossip about each other behind each other’s backs. The first girl often told me negative things about the second girl, which made me wary of her initially. I reduced my interactions with the second girl because of this, but eventually, I felt bad for her since she had no friends. Over time, the second girl seemed like a good person. However, things changed this year. She started copying me in ways that felt obsessive. At first, it was small things like mimicking my profile pictures on social media. If I posted a cat picture, she’d post one too. If I changed it to a selfie, she’d do the same with a similar pose. I didn’t mind initially and even encouraged her sometimes, but it kept escalating. Once, when I confronted her about it, she stopped briefly but soon resumed. For example, she claimed to love a certain anime I liked, but when I asked her about the characters, she admitted she hadn't even watched it. She started using the same skincare products I use, cutting her hair like mine, and wearing similar clothes. It got worse when she began copying everything I said and did in class. If I talked about a topic, she’d repeat it. If I said I didn’t like something, she’d say the same. Even trivial things, like mentioning I ate egg and rice, she’d claim the same. It became unbearable when teachers praised me, and she seemed jealous. She even started damaging my stuff, like snatching my notebooks. Once, we worked on a project together, and she shared it with everyone, taking credit for my work. I don’t understand why the people I’ve met in this new environment behave so toxically. It’s frustrating and exhausting.

Edit: it feels so bad that after distancing myself from her ahe just started bitching about me to others.. one of my classmate showed me ..

I just spent most of my four day holiday weekend with my secret lover. He's married, I'm not. When I met him I was in a relationship with someone I thought I was in love but "D" changed all that and it was apparent to me I had to make a choice. I chose a married man not because it was easy but because it was what my heart was telling me to do. Since then we have become closer than ever before. I will never ask him to leave and I don't need him to. I have my life with him and without him and if he chooses to leave, it must be his decision. I am very happy with every facet of my life from work to traveling to the friends and family circle I am so grateful for. I need for nothing else and after this weekend, my instincts have been reinforced. Gratitude rocks.

Ciao, volevo spiegarvi la mia situazione per condividere un po' il mio malessere momentaneo. Sono una ragazza di 20 anni che studia e lavora, vivo con mio fratello( più grande di 3 anni rispetto a me) e mia mamma, mio padre non lo vedo da un po' in seguito a diversi episodi violenti, però fortunatamente ora non può più avvicinarsi a noi perché abbiamo provveduto per vie legali. Detto ciò la nostra vita si sta ristabilizzando, e fin qui è tutto ok. Mia madre viene da un'altro paese e si è trasferita in Italia per creare una vita ed una famiglia con mio padre. Però ora che io e mio fratello siamo cresciuti lei vorrebbe tornare nel suo paese d'origine per trovare sua madre, che è l'unico parente che abbia mai avuto e che le sia rimasto , ed io non voglio fermarla voglio lasciarla andare. Lei dice che starà lì per un po' , però io so che una volta andata non tornerà più indietro, il solo pensiero di non stare con lei mi distrugge ma io voglio che sia felice. È stata la mia compagna di vita , la mia migliore amica il mio modello di riferimento per trovare la forza di andare avanti, ma ora è arrivato il momento di lasciare che trovi la pace e che vada avanti con la sua vita, non con la mia. Sento un'angoscia che mi pervade, ho paura di essere sola

Tw: sexual assault related

Years ago I had sort of reconnected with an ex several years after an amicable breakup. She came to a party weekend with some mutual friends in her city and we had a fun time partying and talking. A couple weeks later she was in my city for work and called me from the bar late at night asking me to take her back to her hotel.

In retrospect, she was just hoping for a free ride back, but at the time I thought based on our recent fun that she wanted to hook up.

I went and picked her up and drove to her hotel(not a good move to begin with as I had been drinking a little bit). She was very chatty drunk but not obviously hammered or a mess. When we got to the hotel, we kept talking in the car slighlty flirtatiously. I was waiting for an invite up, and retrospectively I think she just didn't know how to leave without feeling rude that she used me for a ride, so we talked for an oddly.long time, like 20 mins in the hotel parking lot, and then she invited me up.

When we got to her room, we were still in the mode where I was sort of expecting to hook up but she kept chatting. I never really made a move but just hung out talking. I can't remember exactly how it started, but we gradually started making out and began having sex. The sex was... very unexceptionable and fast. After finishing, she seemed to be asleep. It really seemed incongruous since she had been talking and mutually initiating sex, but I thought she felt awkward about bad sex and didn't want to address it, so I went to sleep too.

In the morning, I was still expecting a fun light-hearted wakeup with potential redemption sexiness, but her vibe was very much 'get the hell out of my hotel room I am late and have to get ready for work' so that's what I did.

We texted that day and she was sort of talking about not remembering everything from the night before. Without even thinking about the night's events, I started a dumb bit that would have been normal with our friends and with her at that time, and making stuff up and saying she just didn't remember - mainly that she invited me to her family dinner that night. She obviously didn't want me to come but kinda fell for it and rolled with it. I let it go for a few texts and then gave the haha jk. We sort of finished that conversation...and that was it. She went back to her city the next day, we didn't text each other, and our friend groups never crossed paths.

Several years later when metoo was forefront, I thought back at that encounter and was horrified to think that it might have been way different than how I thought it went.

What if when I thought we we were flirty and chatting in my car, she felt pressured and didn't know how to just leave? What if she had the same feeling in her room and didn't want me there but didn't feel comfortable saying so? And maybe worst, what if she really was way drunker than I thought? What if she really was blacked out and didn't remember it? What if she really did fall asleep before/during and I didn't notice? What if when I was teasing her about not remembering, she was feeling that I took advantage of her black out? What if she felt that she was raped?

I tried many times to think of the details of how all of those transitions went, particularly how sexy started, but could never remember the exact details. I truly don't think I pressured or even initiated things, but I couldn't say with complete certainty. I was mostly sure the encounter was how i initially remembered it and it fit with our whole previous relationship, but that sliver of doubt or possibility was terrible.

I was haunted by this for a decade. I always feared seeing her. I feared that she was somehow publically accuse me of rape or assault. I feared that she would privately say it directly to me. And I feared that she felt it and was suffering from it. I began dating my now wife, who told me the story of her rape and I was horrifically afraid of how much that would hurt her to hear.

This was 12 years ago and tonight I saw that ex at a bar. She spotted me and came up to say hi. She was happy to see me and we caught up about family. That doesn't necessarily mean anything with certainty, but she definitely didn't seem to be holding ill will, and gave me confidence that the worst interpretation of that night is not accurate. At the very least, many of the scary possible scenarios involving seeing her didn't happen and are no longer hanging out there.

I've never told a soul this story and am currently trying to process what it means to have this weight gone, and if I can truly let it go. Thanks for reading and sorry if this scenario brought up anyone else's trauma.

When texting friends on snapchat, I save messages. I save them, especially compliments, to re-read when I have a bad day and remind myself I'm still a good person, no matter how bad the day was.

I think I’m a bit broken, I just can’t do it. I can’t get to that state where it feels really good that I’ll cum with a partner. I don’t think I ever will and I’m not sure if I’m going to be really sad about it later. I like sex even without finishing, but for how long?

I’ve tried just about everything.