I dont know why exactly Im posting this? but I guess its hopefully to help others find some insight on what its like to live an early childhood like I did, and others have said it hits harder than a truck so I thought "might as well"

when I was 6 years old my mother and father got divorced, and around that time aswell I had been showing signs of autism so my mother decided to have me tested around that year, I remember the tests they did and some were aptitude tests, some were for fluid reasoning and some were for just basic IQ, I never got told what I got as a result back then but as of recently I took the test again and got 114.

once we left I was excited for my score because I had already known that the test I had taken was an IQ test, I was a very observent child and caught on to things easily but she never gave it too me and said "she didnt want it to get to my head" which as you can guess made my already autistic brain do multiple backflips, even though I caught on quick I always second guess what people mean I suck in social situations and currrently only have one or two close friends.

fast forward a couple years later around the age of 9, my mom had been struggling with payments and she had just had a mini stroke from a recent break up and a shit ton of health problems like auto immune and a pretty big cancer scare, which made me pretty upset and disscouraged to work in school, I was bullied almost everyday because of the way I walk and because I had troubles talking in class and to other people, some called me names of serial killers and some just told me to straight up off myself which I had considered and attemped many times around this time and age.

around a year later I had become so irritated from family and school relationships (my family basically pushed me away aswell and I felt unwanted and prioritized by my mother because of my mental health and my siblings took notice, they called me selfish and told me they didnt want me as their brother anymore even though I was related to them by blood) I would have many outbreaks and "tantrums" when I would get asked to do things, I didnt hate my family nor get upset at our living situation but I was dealing with my own problems at this moment too, and I wouldve asked for help but I usually get so frusterated at myself when I cant explain how I feel and I start crying and yelling out of anger in myself, shortly after (age 10) that I was sent to my first mental institution.

what they ended up diagnosing me with at the age of ten was (autism,bipoler disorder #2, ADHD, scitzophrenia, and some underlying mood disorders) they never wrote off on my file that I had scitzophrenia though because well... I was only 10 things like that are very rare and problimatic esspecially at that age but personally im almost postive I have it and so are the many people who have met me irl.

at this point I was at my lowest or near it, I had lost my best friend (who I am currently talking to again and we are dating with hopes of buying an apartment) I had been put on medication without my consent (which is normal at that age basically your word is nothing) which led to them sending me home with a resting heart rate of like 112 I think? I almost had a heart attack and nobody thought it was a good idea to mention it, did we sue? no, why? because we had actually just lost our car so my mom could pay for medical bills for me, and she didnt have a job because I had made her quit so she could pay more attention to me

and that just made things worse

I didnt even know what started this or why any of this was happening

I was being called selfish/lazy, and ontop of that the screaming in my head said things I dont even think I can post about here

that went on for 2 more years and during that I had been sent back to 2 more institutions of which didnt help

I had been suspended for getting into fights because of the stupid ammount of bullying and remarks that nobody took notice to, also a court case I had been in for some stupid actions of my own, to give a short example of what I did was "get a little handsy" whenever I met a girl that showed the littlest of intrest to me, yes I know it was wrong and I plead guilty for it actually because I didnt mean to hurt them

I didnt know how to express how I felt

I didnt know what love was

nobody had even said "I love you" to me for years

I felt as if I was a mistake so I kept my mouth shut

a couple more years passed by and around 16 or so I had become a husk, I was irritable from the medications I was on, I was in incredible pain but it didnt matter because no matter what I said it didnt matter whether I was right or wrong, for perspective my teeth hurt so bad at one point I couldnt chew mac and cheese, I couldnt eat, drink water or even sleep at that point from the extreme headaches I had gotten.

I ended up dropping out of highschool because I drew the line at people bullying my sister because her brother was a "freak"

I had skipped 4 years in school due to the court case and everything else, I went from 6th grade to 8th and I only spent like two weeks in 8th before my next hosptial so I missed 9th grade and landed in 10th.

I went from pre-algrebra to geometry and I was still pulling B's and C's but I just couldnt do it, I couldnt take it anymore

I didnt know what was real

and if this was it I didnt want to be here

that night I went into my moms garage and attemped

she catches me

and all she does is say its so selfish to go out that way, and she never said "I love you" until I asked

for some reason I put that knife down and my mother called my father at midnight of which I am still living with

during the time between here and then I had jumped out of his truck on the east beltline (a major highway near me) I had to call CPS for my friend because he lives a horrible home life, to elaborate on that his house and family, make me dissapointed in my own race and the horrible thing is CPS threatened to arrest me if I called again spouting false info

ive seen their house

whoever looked at it is either just as insane as they are

or as delusional as I am

because thats bull, that house is unlivable

however it doesnt matter

recently ive put in 7 applications to jobs in my area and ive been declined, so I signed up for disability

denied because I havent worked enough

I am currently waiting on regular social security and if I dont get it I cant get an apartment

which means im still alone

with myself

forever

but im not giving up

thats my story I hope you enjoyed

Growing up as a boy in the early 2000s, life was a kaleidoscope of simple joys and carefree adventures. At school, passing notes was our form of social media - folded pieces of notebook paper covertly exchanged, containing our deepest secrets and silliest jokes. Recess was sacred, a time when the playground transformed into a battlefield, a racetrack, or a secret hideout. The promise of summer break was a shimmering oasis on the horizon, an endless stretch of bike rides, swimming pools, and video game marathons.

Holidays were pure magic through my younger eyes. Halloween meant morphing into whatever superhero or monster I was obsessed with that year. The giddy thrill of racing through the neighborhood with my best buddies, our plastic pumpkins overflowing with cavity-inducing loot. Christmas brought an avalanche of Legos, action figures, and video games - but the real wonder was in the rituals of hanging ornaments on the tree, leaving out cookies for Santa, and watching my favorite holiday cartoons in my PJs.

Snow days were a rare and precious gift from the universe. The world outside hushed and glittering, full of snowball fight potential. Bundling up in layers until I could barely move my arms, then plunging into the crystalline expanse to build snow forts and wage icy battles. Sipping hot chocolate that scorched my tongue, mini marshmallows leaving a sticky moustache on my upper lip. Peeling off wet layers and collapsing in front of the TV, my fingers and toes tingling as they thawed.

Weekends were for neighborhood adventures, a pack of boys on bikes exploring our little slice of the world until the streetlights flickered on, our signal to race home. We'd invent elaborate games of war and espionage, build precarious ramps to launch our bikes off of, tell ghost stories in dark basements. Scraped knees and bruised egos were par for the course, but so was the deep contentment of belonging to my tribe.

Without smartphones and social media vying for my attention, I had the freedom to get lost in my own imagination. Devouring "The Hardy Boys" and "Harry Potter" books, dreaming up my own adventures. Spending hours building Lego worlds and acting out epic storylines with my action figures. Sprawling on the living room floor over a half-finished puzzle or engaged in ruthless Mario Kart battles with my siblings.

It's a bittersweet realization that the carefree days I remember so fondly are increasingly out of reach for today's kids. With 53% of children now having a smartphone by age 11, the lure of the screen is hard to resist. Instead of passing notes in class, they're texting. Rather than making up games outside with the neighborhood kids, they're engrossed in virtual worlds. The simple joys of getting lost in a book or building something amazing out of Legos often lose out to the allure of Instagram, TikTok and YouTube.

While technology has its benefits, the hours many kids now spend glued to their devices come at a cost. Experts worry about the impact on everything from attention spans to social skills to mental health. There's a risk that critical real-world experiences and hands-on play are being displaced by digital distractions. The kind of imaginative, emotionally present, in-person interaction that defined childhoods like mine is becoming rarer for the smartphone generation.

Looking back, I see how those years shaped the man I would become. I learned the value of friendship and loyalty, the thrill of pushing my limits and testing my courage. I discovered the power of my own creativity and ingenuity, the simple joy of living in the moment. The importance of play, of laughter, of making my own fun in an era before technology did it for me.

Perhaps in reminiscing with such appreciation, we can be inspired to preserve the best parts of a tech-free childhood for kids today. To encourage them to use smartphones as tools, not crutches. To balance screen-time with green-time. And to interact with the real world as richly and curiously as the virtual one. The core ingredients of a magical childhood haven't changed - they may just need a bit more nurturing in the digital age.

I hope I never lose touch with that carefree boy who saw adventure around every corner, who believed anything was possible if he could imagine it. He's still there inside me, ready to remind me what really matters whenever I start to forget. So here's to the boys of the early 2000s and the childhoods that shaped us - may we never stop exploring, dreaming, and playing like the kids we once were.

Disclaimer: My English is not so good and not a good story teller still I'm going to try my best

So I'm a collage student in 2nd year... So let me start my story

It was mid of August and i was late for my classes and there is no place in last rows to sit on except near that girl so i went there and sit beside her idk why i did this cuz i dont like to intrect with new people or knows how to start a conversation... So in mid class i was using my phone and asked me about my Walpaper it was a fan art of "Call of the night" anime so i told her about that anime n all and we had a conversation till the end of the class about anime n all and i found a common interest between us... Later that day i find my self thinking about thoese conversation trying to do more conversations n all... So i thought to text her but idl her insta so i tried to contact some of my friends and asked them indirectly after 3 days of hard work i finally got her insta... I texted her and started talking about that day n animes... From that day we started talking to each other more and more we used to talk everyday late night but act as unknown in class lol... Soon we became insomniac lol we use to talk till 5 6 am in morning from 8 pm and in day time we use to talk when we get time so i found my self attracted towards her and i said to her about this indirectly she said she already knows about this by my actions how i stare at her in class how i admire her when she doesn't notice n all and later she said she kinds of likes me too but she doesn't want anything from me due to some bad reputation of my friend group... But still i haven't gave up and after a month we started dating unofficial like no one knows ae are dating except us soon we fall in love or got more attached to each other... And we were in relationship i use to like her childish behaviour her tantrums her lame jokes her illogical theories her everything (i still remember how inocent face she make when she got nervous or realise she did something wrong) i use to help her with her overthinking n issues i never excepted anything from her i just want to see her all her listen to her all day she use to get angry on silly reasons like why i clicked less pics of her or our today or why i ate less or why gave her less hugs n all and i love to persuade on these silly reasons and also she told me how much she loves to get angry on these silly things and how i treat her or confrent her everytime differently this shows my love n care towards her she used to say her... Everything this was going great and beautiful still i can say she was my fav character of my life... Soon i stated working on my issues like my conversation skills or reduce the amount of cig i use to smoke or reduce the number of fights i use to get involved i did everything she genuinely didn't want in me everything was great we have tons of memories together... We had a perfect life together... She don't even talk to another guys even someone text her she sends me screenshot and didn't replied to that guy... Even her friends stated saying we are perfect couple

Idk what happened when happened she stated complaining about timing at first i thought it just same silly anger so i haven't took that seriously but the complain started increasing but idk how to give her more time like i use to talk to her all night and day and meet her everyday and take her to day every weekend still idk why need more time when my time was hers or with her....

Then one day out of nowhere she said she wants to end this she gave up...

I did everything to make her mine and stop her to do this but ahe said its not her or me its her family issues but ik thats not the case so i kept asking she said its my timming issues then my love has reduced or i have charged she told me 20 different reason everytime i asked her on that day i did my best and convinced her to meet me once i broke up infornt of her i cried like a baby infront of her she didn't said a thing or helped me she broked my tough guy personality I don't even remember when i cried of someone or something last time but i cried for her i begged for her i want her i need her.... But nothing worked she walked away she left I'm all alone... She blocked me from everywhere I even taled to her with my different account but i failed everything i gave or find a soln to fix everything or solve her problem she blocks me its been a months we have separate but i swere everyday she was my thoughts daily i checks my phone if she unblocked me or texted me or anything I still remember the day before our break up it was 14th of feb i took her from her place gave her rose took her for lunch had meal then we shared icecream went to arcade section then clothings section i gave her a really beautiful pair of earrings then we watched a movie on theatre then gave her 5 different colours of rose n all ahh forgot to share she prepared pasty for me even she never cooked before and it was tasty too all happed in same day it was one of our best day we laughed and enjoyed a lot even we ended that day we the warmest hug and the best kiss of our relationship ig lol But what happened the next day and she gave up on me... After that i cried many times in her memories... Even today i finally decided to move all her photos to hardrive and saw a pieces of text she sent me when i was sick and again it made me cry like a baby for her idk what weny wrong i still loves her rvery time i saw her i brokes me she was perfect still idk what happed between us

There is more to share like more event and stories by which you can how mych we used to live and care about eachother the bond between us the type of understanding the number of coincidence happed between us the similarity between us... I can bet we were living a perfect love love like a movie... That was my fav character i wish my life ends with her chapter

I'll wait for her idk how long but I'll wait cuz possibility and thought of hers is much better than presence of some other person

Here is the text of that message

Hey hey!! I know this is kinda unexpected from me but i wanna tell u something I'm happy to have u in my life I always say nd think that u r not a good boyfriend but it's not like that u r the best u always handle me nd my mood swings no matter how much pointless that argument would be nd u don't show any male ego infront of me that's what I like most about u and for me u r always up to do everything u can and u never wanted to change anything in me u always accepted and loved me the way I am and u have always tried to do that which would make me happy and u r also trying to change urself u want to but that's not happening but I'll help u with that and I'll not just make u happy but I'll try that my love can change some bad habbits of ur's till that I'll be with u ik u love me so muchh that's y for u nd our love I'll try to give my 100 percent in this relationship Baby ur sick ur not feeling well I hope this text have a little ability to make u feel special because u r special I hope u feel a little bit good when u see this text I'm not good at expressing my feelings and writing paragraphs but I tried hope u'll like it Love you❤️

So from the start of my school year I've had a rough start and now I'm feeling I have no connection to my so called "best friend" or whatever she wants me to call her. It been so hard to get on my feet and forcefully for her to stop touching me. From the start of the year she has been undoubtedly the most annoying person I find even though I've knew her for 3 years its too hard to tell her to stop as I feel like all those years would go to waste. The reason why I won't tell her to stop is because she is more of a ambitious person always thinking she is better than everyone else. During the first few weeks of the new year during she started spouting nonsense and declaring all my hardwork as just fakes, for example I've been playing piano for my whole entire life and she started talking crap about how I'm worse than her at piano and this just seem fair for me that have barely played any songs in front of her. In addition there is this boy that has liked for sometime and from the start I already he liked her, but at this point it's so noticeable that she is blind sometimes I don't understand, but he just treats me unfairly even though I've given some snacks that he liked or small stuff he would choose the girl that seems to cling on to me. I understand that he likes her more, but at least treat me like the friends you usually hang out with.

This is how I see the situation, but from another perspective of her she seems to be the main character of her own story and I'm just her shining knight (I really do not want to be her shining knight) she won't leave me alone when I'm feeling sleepy she starts touching non stop and just makes me feel uncomfortable (FYI she's BI and I feel like sometimes she just touches me weirdly and just gets me on my nerve and she knows I'm straight) Sometimes she just irritates me because of how clingy she is. Throughout the start of 2024 I honestly just wanted to cut off all ties with her even if I have many other friends that are friends with her (thought she barely talks to them). In some group assignments she becomes unreasonably controlling and makes my life harder than I need it to be. she does the bare minimum barely tries in anything and when it comes to finishing small assignments she's the first to finish which just suddenly makes me feel dumb (which is my fault). When it comes to big assignments she just never tries to put any thought in it and I would've finished the assignment in 2 days after the day we got it, but it always feels like she is pushing me behind that I just can't do anything. Even if I do something by myself she gives multiple expressions like happiness, or just angriness. Which just pis*** me off so much cause she just won't let me be. When it comes to music class she always mad at everyone never happy which just pis*** me off too because it just seems she doesn't want anyone to be happy. Even in small games when we play a small game she get irritatingly annoying because me and the class just wants to have fun. Sometimes she also gets pis** when she is in the wrong, she once corrected the history teacher, but after a while she gets a question wrong and starts fighting the teacher and was almost about to cry [I know I should be like saying are you okay, yes I did say it, but I knew that the teacher was in the right because it was obvious she didn't read the textbook like she was supposed to]. She also disses a lot on our music teacher when he's sick she won't stop annoying him about how he's off tune and compares band with choir a lot which just feel unreasonable they are good in their own perspectives.

I know this is a lot, but at this point I feel like she is just the main character and I can't do anything as a side character I just want to do my own thing have my other friends team up with me and just let me do what I want to do. Last time she tried to shove k-pop stuff at me and yes I like k-pop but at that time I didn't like any of the groups she showed me, but she won't stop showing off about all the songs that I couldn't show any songs of my own which just seems that she doesn't care about me. I just wish for someone to understand my perspective and how this person that has been calling herself as my best friend is not my BF but more of a friend. Yes, I know I'm ignorant, but I have best friends that are actual bestfriends but I don't want to hurt her ego that she will fall below me and take me down with her.

I know a lot of people have different opinions about weight loss, but I was morbidly obese at 17. I weighed 225 lbs and I'm five foot one. I was barly able to move and it caused a lot of joint pain. I gained 105 lbs after the COVID-19 and I eventually got told upright by someone close to me that I was practically killing myself with the weight I gained.

So, I decided to fix it. I started off with counting my calories in a normal day of eating, and I found out I ate an average of 6,000 calories almost daily. I started with small workouts, and a goal to get 3,000 steps a day. Then each week I lowered my calories and increasing my exercise.

Two years have passed and I've lost 72 lbs, my goal is 125 lbs. I eat about 1,700 calories a day and I go for a brisk walk in the morning. I know counting calories isn't helpful for a lot of people, but it was for me. I tend to eat without thinking.

I now weight 153 lbs, I still need to lose 28 lbs to meet my goal, but I never felt better and happier.

I've been a type 1 diabetic for 21 years now. (The autoimmune kind, so many people just naturally assume type 2. People around me even assumed it was type 2 when I was a kid, because it's the only kind most people know of.)
I'm autistic. I suffer from social phobia (grew rapidly worse as a teenager and then kept getting worse as an adult).
I've got epilepsy. I've got chronic reflux syndrome which was confirmed twice through gastroscopies which I had to undergo for other reasons, and it became much, much worse during my teenage years and I need prescribed medication just to get it a little bit under control, but it has also limited me extremely severely in what I can eat every day as well.
I take 4-6 injections of insulin per day. I swallow 4 pills per day (=medications and a multi-vitamin one because I lack the ability to eat a nutritional diet, because I'm also very nearly a "super taster", which is a home test you can do which my sister did for me as a teenager, which means I can taste more things and more strongly than regular people, plus the autism also affects the brain in a wide variety of ways including how the brain perceives the taste, and of course the chronic reflux syndrome preventing me from eating quite a lot of food types).

I'm allergic to grass pollen. I'm allergic to birch tree pollen, which is one of the most common trees in the country where I live. I'm overly sensitive to cold air, so I suffer from problems with my sinuses all year round since it's cold air one half and pollen the other half of the year where I live up in the Nordics.
I'm sensitive to citrus. I'm very lactose intolerant. I've got coconut intolerance, which means I can't eat things with coconut oil in them (you'd be surprised how much stuff got that in it).
I'm overly flexible in my joints, and had to have surgery done on one of my shoulders, and was told from the start that I'll have to get surgery done in 10 years after that, which is about 4 years left, because what I got was a net and once that's gone I'll have to get the shoulder locked in place.
My knees aren't doing too well. My other shoulder is also pretty worn out. I hurt myself in those joints if I sleep in positions that pushes them.

I struggle to spend long periods of time outside because the bloodsugar can't take it, unless I take breaks much more frequently than what you'd consider "normal" for regular folk. I struggle to spend long periods outside because the anxiety levels cranks up to levels where I can't put a single coherent thought together, so it's like I only become able to use a downgraded version of my conscious mind at those times, and the ability to remember things also flies out the door.

I struggle to do activities outdoors because my heartburn reaches levels where I feel like the inside of my stomach and chest is on fire, plus all the previously mentioned problems as well.

To get a sick pension, it depends on the country, but I had to go through over a decade of coaching companies just pushing quotas with no regard for any diagnosis, and work placements, all meant to test my ability to work, which means I couldn't skip it either because then I would've gotten disqualified.
One time, I couldn't even return to a work place after the first hour of the first day, simply because it caused a nervous breakdown and overloaded the brain with anxiety.
These kinds of "tests" (I'd call them trials instead) seem intentionally designed just to weed out as many as possible that despite severe issues might somehow maybe in the future become able to find something (probably homelessness or worse) and those that can't go through the tests (=trials) would be eliminated from it all with the excuse that they "couldn't confirm the problems" (which somehow takes over a decade to confirm).

At a certain point, it doesn't become about "living as normally as possible". It simply becomes about surviving the day. The week. The month. The year. Not knowing if I'll seizure and... well... that, at any point in time, either from the diabetes applying pressure to the brain, or the epilepsy just doing it randomly on its own, or a combination of both.

I've had to be resuscitated several times throughout my life. I've given up on having a social life. I just have a sister, a brother I don't know well, a best friend, and a close friend, but no prospects for a new social circle because there are simply too many consequences both for me and the people around me because I literally drag others down with me.
Anyway, it's usually just the lucky ones with milder circumstances that lets you know they exist whether it be on the internet or media or elsewhere. The rest fades into the background and disappears, because there's no choice for some people - it's simply the outcome of hard limitations set in the body and/or mind.
So for the people in the background with chronic illnesses, it's not a choice between fighting against it or adapting to it. It's more a choice between adapting to it or choosing to end it all. Certain things should not be underestimated when it comes to the impact on one's life, and illnesses are one of them, even if they aren't terminal. But when this is talked about in public, it's "not ok to spread that negativity". Even though it's simply a rational outlook on things for some people.

Anyway, just wanted to air out some frustrations I've had when I've noticed a lot of people virtue signal about these problems like they can be "overcome with a strong will and hard work". There's very little sympathy in a lot of places, both institutionally and culturally, for the people without a fatal illness but still severely difficult problems that's comparable or even worse than what makes so many old people intentionally OD on their medications.
(You could argue old people do it because they've "lived their lives already". But if you consider a hypothetical situation where they somehow get extra decades added to their lives with full vitality and visual appearance back again from their youths, do you think they would still choose to end it all at that same period in time as without that hypothetical?
So the only decisive variable left becomes that their life quality went down, not that they've lived a long life.)

And just to be clear, this is a short summary where I've had to cut out a lot of other problems, such as alcoholic parents with one drinking literally every single night unless there's something such as a temporary medication or need to drive early the next day preventing it, plus that drunk one playing the guitar and singing 'til midnight every single time when intoxicated. There are a lot of other problems than that as well, it's just to give a taste as to what it was like.
It would just take up too much space to write about everything.

Epilogue
As for how I'm doing now, I'm finally living peacefully on my own. I'm 32 right now. I couldn't get my sick pension until I was 30, so I couldn't move before that time since it would be a bad idea to invest in anything without knowing if I'd have an income of any kind.

I just wrote this down to hopefully give people an insight into people that literally struggles with these kinds of problems, whether it be all or just one or two of them.
I especially hope family members of such people will gain some insight from this, if there's any out there reading this. Or maybe this goes unnoticed by all and becomes quickly forgotten, time will tell I guess.
Oh, and for the record, I never thought I'd live this long. I'm just glad I got over the hurdle and only have to deal with the slower consequences of the chaotic life before this, from now on.

Dear Reddit,

Purpose:

For as long as my memory permits, I have known the inevitability of my father's death. He is 43 years older than me. I remember this one time he told me that because of his diabetes, and because of his reduced eating to lower his blood sugar levels, there is a chance that he may one day simply go to sleep with blood sugar levels too low to wake up on his own, and that I need to check on him when he is sleeping in case he stops his breathing.

Furthermore, we are intense Muslims (in Canada), and a major theme you will find in Muslim narratives is the inevitability of death, being prepared for death, and living life in accordance with belief in death.

I think about death and dying constantly. It is because of this that I was led to record conversations and experiences with my father, as well as speeches in my Muslim community. I did this because I realized that once he died, it would be impossible for me to convey him to another person, perhaps even to myself. It was as if he never existed at all, and once I die, then his nonexistence is certain, erased completely. My dad is still alive, but you never know, so I thought it prudent to share this evidence that he was alive and the life he lived and the sacrifices he made.

Audio Quality:

Some of the earliest audio recordings are hard to hear and may have extended periods of dead space, but I think I managed to get the audio functional enough to hear the later ones. I recorded them all with my phone's mic so it is subpar. Sorry. The sheer volume and emotional content has also made it difficult to do audio editing on my laptop, which was not designed for such things, especially given my low energy and time. The ones I have checked though seem good enough to me. They may suffer from background noises and occasional crackling, but remain functional enough to listen to.

Recordings:

The files are as follows:

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1UgVaTOhSpeLaadbWzDwK37WJOyIfssBl?usp=drive_link

I will now describe each section:

Dad Conversations:

There are currently 105 instances of recordings of my dad. They are pretty diverse. Some are just random events I think provide characterization, such as "75. Dad Conversation. Hitting a Speed Bump Hard." Some deal with hobbies, such as the recordings on his gardening hobby, or random advice, such as "100. Dad Conversation. Cutting a Potato and Rubbing it on Mirror" or "74.1 Dad Conversation. How to Maken DIY Instant Paratha." Others deal with family and religion, some short, some really long. See the 94 series of Dad Conversations for an example of the long ones.

Tahajjud:

There are currently 3 Tahajjud recordings. Tahajjud is a prayer in Islam in the deep night. I usually only pray it during Ramadan since the fasting completely messes up one's sleep. He prays it more often, usually an hour before the dawn (Fajr) prayer, which is around 4-5 am. These were interesting recordings since they depict his faith at its most vulnerable.

Too Much to Listen to:

There are currently 4 recordings categorized as "too much to listen to." I put that there since they involved conversations I just want to forget but I know can't be erased. There is also a lot of dead space in these recordings since I couldn't be bothered to deal with it either. Listen if you wish, but I doubt anyone would be bothered with such an undertaking.

Jumah Speeches:

There are currently 75 instances of Jumah speeches. Jumah is the prayer on Fridays in Islam. The men pray together in a kind of public event where the Imam gives a speech. I decided to include these audios because they show the kind of discourses that go on in my community. They also show that a lot of the "truisms" I find on reddit like "focus on improving yourself" or "live your life in the way that will make you most happy" are all secondary concerns in a Muslim context. Take for example, "53.1 Jumah (Aug 18, 2023) Imam Sells Jannah and Good Deeds the Way You Do For a House" or "52.1 Jumah (Aug 4, 2023) Muslim Faith is Being Challenged More Than Ever; To Survive, We Must Dogmatically Believe in Only Islam." The focus on the self, and of one's own life and happiness, if it does exist in Islam, is entirely instrumentalized to what one believes leads to heaven, which is entirely different.

Fajr Ramadan Speeches:

There are also 16 instances of prayers and statements made by an Imam after Fajr during Ramadan. They are of a similar nature, just shorter than the Jumah speeches. Take for example, "12.1 Fajr Ramadan (April 16, 2023). There was a Killer of 100 People Whose Repentance was Accepted." This was a shorter, interesting anecdote that reminded me of the Buddhist story of Angulimala which was cool.

Conclusions:

I doubt anyone, if they do see this post, will listen to a single one of these audio recordings, which I suppose is fine, there is no reason why anyone would feel obligated to do so. Note that I also fantasized for a moment that claiming nobody will see this post or listen to these audio recordings will be the impetus for people doing so and the sacrifices made being remembered. I then banished this thought, recognizing it as mere copium.

In any case, I at least know that if I die tomorrow, there isn't an absolute certainty that all the decades of pain and suffering and emptiness and insanity and sacrifice was all for nothing, wiped away like footprints in a snowstorm.

Best,

P.S.: I contemplated posting this in a specifically Muslim subreddit like r/Islam, but I know I don't belong there, or anywhere, so I settled on a post here. I know I belong in the flaming pit and I know I am already there, it need simply play itself out.

(Basically, first time ever posting, so a bit nervous, hi :3, hope that this is in the correct place, all the persons mentioned are male, not sure if I have to specify it here, always open to hear recommendations) So, I've never had any sort of interest in sports really, besides from playing with friends casually from time to time. However, once in my life, I thought I'd found a sport I liked. An ex friend was very persistant with me on trying out rugby when we were 17 years old, I accepted going to try once to try out and see why he was insisting so much, even if I was really bad at it, I really liked the group of people that were there, liked the environment and had a blast, so I ended up signing in for going to train there weekly. Ngl, it was really tough since I had never neither trained or lifted gym weights, but as months went by, I got a bit better and was able to lift weights that I though I'd never could. Despite the fact that I dislike high contact sports, I enjoyed playing, all was going so well, I made some friends there and used to hang out quite frecuently and play videogames almost every day. Nevertheless, almost a year after that, it all blew up, I am gay and started talking about with one of my friends there about how I moved on from liking a friend from school bc he was not into guys, he took it really well fortunately (At least I thought so). We started talking even more after that and started getting closer to each other, and after some weeks went by he started showing back that he had feelings for me (and so did I after we started talking more), so we ended up dating, but it was as if it was all a secret, I was excited to tell it to my friends there, but he did not show any sort of affection or sign in front of any of our friends. It was a bit weird but I thought, "maybe he is just afraid from their reaction" I told the closest friend I had there that this guy and I were dating and he was surprised as, we never showed any sort of signal that we were a thing, but he was really happy for us and he hugged me. (We dated for two months) I always invited my ex to come to my house (my parents always took it great when I came out) but he always said he could not go due to "stuff", though he texted me constantly so I though, maybe is due to school stuff. So a month went by, I though "Now is time for vacations, time to finally hang out", but even with the vast free time that we both had he was never able to hang out and refused all my invitations. (We hanged out like 2 or 3 times in all the two months) I thought "at least we play videogames together and text a lot". But messages started to get colder and colder, and then he started almost ghosting me. Then all my group of friends basically tried to trick me to go to a "club" saying it was a birthday party (I figured out it was not due to some Instagram posts they submited lol) I did not want to go bc it was a dangerous area and it was basically all unsupervised (I am someone who does not like to go to big parties). At the same time this was happening, my ex was talking to me that I should try drinking beer or vodka (I never drinked any alcohol as I don't find it of my interest) I politely refused but he constantly repeated that I should try, that I should not puss out (I simply did not want to drink) but he got really mad. After that party (Still up to this day I do not know what exactly happened, but I am aware that everyone got drunk really bad), all started looking me really weird, stopped talking to me, as I have done anything bad, even my supposed partner ignored me. We ended up breaking up a day after that, I kept going some more time to the trainings, but all was weid, I though, "Yeah, it is normal after a breakup", but I felt really sad, I felt that I was alone among my supposed friends, but I was basically left appart, and my excitement for going banished, and stopped going. Some creepy stuff happened after that and some harrasment by my ex was done. I went to school with some of this exfriends, but I constantly felt paranoic as when I looked they were always looking me from afar when we had breaks. So I was left quite paranoic after all, it's been two years since that now and I don't really want to engage with any group sport (Even though I would like) due to the fear of having to live all that again. Thankfully, I've found a supportive boyfriend that is one of the kindest persons I've ever known, so he helped me so much to cope with all the paranoia (even if I am still paranoic but he is great help to reduce the amount of anxiety that the paranoia produces) and found a real group of friends that appreciate us from who we really are :3. Any suggestions on how could I do to regain trust in playing team sports? (Sorry if it is a big chunk of text)

So this past week, me (F20) and my boyfriend (M24) got and finished playing a game called It Takes Two. It was a great game and I loved it, but the day after we finished playing it, my boyfriend apparently decided he didn't want to be in a relationship with me anymore, not because of anything I did but because of something, that at the time, he didn't tell me about. It literally killed me and broke me to pieces. But this morning we figured out it's apparently easier for both of us to type how we feel, so he explain in a word doc he had me read while he went to the gym that since we started dating, he's noticed that he's lost interest in some active hobbies he enjoys, that he used to do more often before we were dating. He also said he realized it wasn't the fault of our relationship or me, but something internal that he had to work through himself. So I wrote him back using the games advice about love to help us.

Quick mini spoiler; not giving much away

In the game, this couple wants a divorce, so they magically get turned into tiny dolls to work together to fix their relationship with the help of a love therapy book. And something pointed out in the game was that passion is very important to a relationship, but not passion towards each other, but for their own separate hobbies. The guy in the game was super passionate about gardening, but since his wife didn't support him verbally enough, he lost his passion for gardening.

In that same way, I didn't even realize the hobbies my boyfriend wanted to pursue more, so I wasn't supportive enough. So in the letter I wrote back, responding to his own he wrote me, I told him that all I ever want to do is be there for him and support him in all he does because that's what partners do, they support each other. I wrote a lot more in there, but basically, he read it and apologized for everything he said to me and that he loves me too. Now we're working on communicating with each other more, and I'm trying to support him and find ways to help him get his spark back.

So apparently, if you're struggling in a relationship, play that game. It's fun and actually helpful! And if you're not a gamer, there are quite a few playthroughs on youtube if you just want to watch it for the advice.

(part 1)

https://www.reddit.com/r/lifeinapost/comments/15jt37k/me_and_my_depression_part_1_the_beginning_of_it/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3

(part 2)

https://www.reddit.com/r/lifeinapost/comments/15jt52e/me_and_my_depression_part_2_the_start_of_restoring/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3

(part 3)

https://www.reddit.com/r/lifeinapost/comments/15jt7jj/me_and_my_depression_part_3_how_i_dealt_with_my/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3

No matter how old/young, introvert/extrovert, quit/loud you are if you have a problem that’s been following you, talk about it with an adult, a friend, a sibling, a professional or even a pet. Talking about your problems make it easier for you to bear.

If you are like me to stubborn and ashamed (which you shouldn’t be) to talk, try to express yourself in a different way, like art. You don’t have to do this but it can help. Creating a challenge for yourself can get your mind out of the world and push the problems you have outside your head. Like this you can also talk about your problems without anyone understanding what you want to say.

Finding a good group of friends can help you trough tough times. I didn’t take my problems to smoking, drugs, alcohol or whatever else and you should neither. It won’t help you, it will only cover the problem for a short time.

Talking to strangers on the internet like I do here can also help you a lot. You tell your story to millions of people and yet nobody know it’s you. Many people before me did this and many will follow me. Maybe I inspire someone to also talk about their problems on the internet.

If you are down really bad and feel like committing suicide it won’t help to say why you should live. Or maybe it does for you, than you should continue. I always told myself why I shouldn’t die: it would only make the lives of people around me harder.

If someone ever comes to you with a problem like this, always try to comfort them. Hug them and make them feel calm and safe. You might be the only person who they trust, so don’t tell their story to someone if they don’t want you to. If you have a solution to there problems, give it to them but later. A few hours after they calm down or maybe even the next day or week.

It’s hard to get out of a depression but we should help everyone around us feel safe and good about themselves. Living in an environment where everyone feels good is way more fun for yourself.

If you want to tell your story to a stranger, you can always try contacting me. I will try to listen to your story and help you get trough tough times. I know it can be hard to tell your story but talking to a stranger who doesn’t know you and will not judge you can help you a lot.

Bringing this story to maybe millions of strangers wasn’t easy for me, and neither was or will it be for others. That’s why I would appreciate seeing everyone support people who bring out there stories. Maybe with a like, a comment, reading it or maybe even skipping the story. As long as you don’t dislike their stories or give negative feedback to the person who comes out with their story as it would make the last place they felt safe a hell for them.

​

(part 1)

https://www.reddit.com/r/lifeinapost/comments/15jt37k/me_and_my_depression_part_1_the_beginning_of_it/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3

(part 2)

https://www.reddit.com/r/lifeinapost/comments/15jt52e/me_and_my_depression_part_2_the_start_of_restoring/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3

Some people say, “art is a way to express yourself.” I agree, yet this doesn’t apply to me. I started to make art to express the person I always wanted to be.

When I was around 8 years old and already depressed I decided to take it another way, art. The first thing I did was writing poems as they can express feelings trough words that might look fun to someone else but only you know the meaning behind those words. I would make small poems often with no more then 20-30 words. When someone listened to them they were fun, about nature or modern problems put in a funny way. Yet nobody knew I was bringing over a message. People don’t expect a hidden message about depression in a poem about sheep and wolves. Even though I knew they didn’t get my message, knowing I told it made me feel better about it.

Later (10-11 years old) I started drawing, random tutorials I found on the internet. My parents were fine with this as I did something useful with YouTube. Later I drew random objects around me. At one point in class we had to make a drawing about how we felt. I drew something and when the teacher said we had to explain why we felt like that in front of the class it was a hell of a job to make up a story for the thing I drew. I drew it because I felt like drawing it and not because I felt like the thing I drew. My friends absolutely loved my drawing and it became an inside joke for quite a while, later I made drawings in the same stile but sometimes I switched everything up. To me it felt like a new era, I didn’t feel this good in years. (I would give the picture(s) but my friends would recognise it immediately and I don’t want that)

After a few years of drawing I was ready to try something different. I was about 12-13 years at this point and decided to take my art digitally. First I tried 3D art, as it absolutely failed I tried animation. Animation worked way better but it starts to bore fast, so I went back to drawing for some time. But not long passed before I was bored again and decided to give myself a challenge. When I was 14 years old I decided I wanted to write a book. I don’t know how often I started and threw everything I had away. Probably more then 10-20 times. But at some point I decided to look on the internet how to write books, I didn’t learn interesting things. Most people just tried promoting there books so I had to restart all by myself. At some point I knew that I had to have a world where my story would take place, I also needed an idea for my book. At this point (15 years old, the 6th of august 2023) I am still working on my world, drawing the things I think will be useful in my book. I have the entire idea written down, already in place with chapters and their names. I think it will become a beautiful book when it’s finished. I won’t promote my book here as it would be easier to find me if I would.

But at some point it gets boring and I need a little distraction, that’s why I write this. I write this to express myself and tell my story to people I don’t know so the people I know won’t judge me differently. I also write this to inspire others to talk to people about there problems, or if they are to take the stone out of there shoe like I am to express themselves trough art. It will make you feel better if you do, and don’t give up but continue. As I once heard from someone: “it’s not the getting there that’s fun, it’s the road to the end.” This of course doesn’t mean you should never end a piece of art but try to take as long as possible to create it, it’s more fun that way. But also not to long as it will start to bore you, you have to find it yourself.

(part 1) https://www.reddit.com/r/lifeinapost/comments/15jt37k/me\_and\_my\_depression\_part\_1\_the\_beginning\_of\_it/?utm\_source=share&utm\_medium=web2x&context=3

After years of depression and suicide thoughts I came in hight school (11 years old at the time). For some reason I thought it would magically become better here. And I was lucky as it actually happened, sort of. The first year was no different, the only things were new friends, new location and new teachers. I felt just as sad as ever before. But I was lucky to find 5 good friends, 1 trough coincidence as I had mistaken him for someone else, 2 were with a friend already in the group and 1 as we would often wait in the same location for out friends to come back from hot meal. 2 of them thought me self-mockery, maybe the best way to live with my pain. The one I was always waiting with was ruthless, it hurt me a lot in the first year but also made me stronger. All of them helped me become stronger without even knowing it. New problems didn’t arrive as much anymore, even though I sometimes fall back and get sad quick again. The biggest problem was “getting the current stones out of my shoe” or getting all the problems out of my head. If you are one of my friends, thank you. I never thanked them for this, never told them about my problems and probably never will. But like I said in part 1, don’t ask me if I wrote this as I will just say no.

In my opinion the best way to get out of depression is talking about it even though I didn’t. Another way out is self-mockery. If they say you are poor, tell them they are right. They won’t know what to say and it might make you feel better about yourself. Finding a good group of friends is also a good way to restore slowly but surely.

Even though a ruthless friend can help you get stronger and build a shield around you I will not give it as good advice. It can also make you weaker then before, depends on the person you are.

If you are dealing with suicide thoughts, this can help you: I often tried to say, “you have friends and family who will miss you,” and then I would say to myself that was a lie and I have nothing to live for. That’s why I started to say to myself it would only make the lives of people around me worse if I were to commit suicide. Police will first look at who killed me, when they find out it is suicide they will ask people if they new about my problem etc… I told myself I didn’t want to make the lives of people around me harder. A burial takes a lot of time and money, and I didn’t want to take that from my parents. That is how I stopped myself from committing suicide.

I (male 15 years old, born the 29th November 2007) am currently (6th august 2023) restoring from depression and suicidal thoughts without anyone knowing I ever had/have them. If you would somehow manage to find me don’t bother asking me if I wrote this as I will probably just lie about it.

It probably all started with my parents. They weren’t bad parents, not like that. My parents always did what they thought was best for me. They were strict and practical. As a young kid (5-6) years old I first learned about things like video games and YouTube. I learned these from my classmates and as this was my first ever contact with them I became addicted fast. My parents found out and put down strict rules which I found unfair but didn’t dare to complain. The fact I never have been in contact with games or YouTube before really changed my vision about my parents and made everything seem unfair. This is probably where it all started.

Also a problem with my parents is that they were practical. When I was bullied at school they would give me solutions like “say they are right” or “don’t cry, it’s what they want”. Of course these were good solutions and will advise everyone else to also do this as this will make it easier and maybe less as it’s less fun for the bullies that way. But even though these were good ideas I missed being comforted. I never god hugged when I came crying to my parents, never heard “It’ll be alright” or heard them crying with me. At some point I decided to just stop going to my parents knowing everything would be the same without there help, it wasn’t. Quickly all the things I would usually tell my parents would stay unspoken. As I didn’t come crying anymore my parents thought everything was fine at school, little did they know the person I became. Being to stubborn to go to my parents I cropped everything in my head. I would explode for the smallest thing against kids from school, I got really sad or mad up until the point where other kids had to calm me down. It’s as someone I know once described it as (he also doesn’t know about anything of this): “a problem is like a stone in your shoe, every step it feels bigger and more painful and when you talk about your problem you take the stone out of your shoe.” If I was not to stubborn at the time to take the many stones out of my shoe it wouldn’t have gotten to this point but I am here writing my story and trying to inspire others to talk about there problems, no matter how small they are.

Between, the previous and the next part my 2 best friends got out of school. The first one moved to another country and the second one was suspended permanently from school for reasons I won’t say. I had no contact with either of them. This didn’t help things.

Years of cropping up these problems didn’t make it easier. I don’t get mad anymore but I still get sad from the smallest things like someone calling me “stupid” could break my day. This made me fall in the put I dug myself for my problems. Slowly but surely I got sadder and wouldn’t care about anything and would fill my life with self-pity. Around this time I realised that the person I looked at as my best friend lied to me every day. This put me down further and with suicide thoughts.

If anyone has problems like getting bullied: talk about it with a friend, a teacher, a parent, a sibling,… it will make things better and take stones out of your shoe.

If anyone ever comes to you: calm them down, comfort them, hug them, say that everything will be alright, or whatever that person may want (don’t cross your own limits for someone else, you need to feel good about it too). Doing this can really help this person and keep this person away from depression and suicide thoughts. If you have any solutions give them later, a few hours later or the next day or maybe even later.

Part 1 https://www.reddit.com/r/lifeinapost/comments/10vwccw/my_strange_and_hard_to_believe_life_part_1/

Part 2 https://www.reddit.com/r/lifeinapost/comments/10xhq9s/my_strange_and_hard_to_believe_life_part_2/

Part 3

https://www.reddit.com/r/lifeinapost/comments/11559y1/my_strange_and_hard_to_believe_life_part_3/

In last part I had some sort of nervous breakdown and was unable to enjoy the things I used to, and after three years seemed to have a breakthrough. In this final part I walk through the gates of hell on route to present day.

So after this breakthrough that was also accompanied by a heavy feeling in my legs, I felt like I was getting a little better every month, however that physical pain also meant I had trouble doing things like cleaning up as I just didn't have that extra gas tank anymore - my apartment reached ghastly levels and I was lucky to not get evicted.

Around December 2019 I was eating a meal and I realized that I burned through it... fast. It quickly became apparent to me that for some reason related to what was going on mentally, my appetite had increased. Despite eating more, I lost, not gained weight, with my belt getting looser. But fortunately after losing the first 5-10 pounds, I never seemed to go below that or reach dangerous levels. I got into the habit of going to the All You Can Eat a block away on a regular basis, then would go home and eat another oversized dinner. Unfortunately my timing couldn't be worse since all the restaurants got shut down for covid in early 2020, but I somehow made it through cooking second dinner at lunchtime. By the time of not being allowed in restaurants (I was afraid of putting vaccine in a body that was in such a bizarre state), I ended good at using my oven and cooking stuff like lasagnas or shephards pie that would normally feed a family of four, except I frequently ate it all in one night. I had to be eating over twice as much, perhaps three times as in the years before this start. I remember looking back to the days when I would cook a few porkchops and potatoes and then have half of it as the dinner the next night, and it seemed like such a JOKE compared to what I was now eating. And once again, I remained underweight this whole time (if you think I'm just crazy try explaining that, surely I would've gotten fat). My theory is whatever was going on with me mentally was burning more calories/energy. So this went on a while, with me always optimistic the end was right around the corner, and then sometime I believe in 2020, the pain in my legs got worse and getting through every day became an ordeal, days where I could barely make it home physically. Like a frog in boiling water because the build up was gradual, I think the level of pain and intensity became normalized for me, even though it was out of control in reality. There were a few moments where I questioned my mortality and where my heart was just going to give out on me or something one day. I kept optimistic though because it felt like I was improving and that I was more able to keep up with movies and tv shows, but I still felt like a complete shell of myself watching sports or wrestling (Unfortunately when my previous favorite sports team won the championship I felt almost nothing, that will probably always haunt me though I plan to rewatch all the games one day). I went on this way for years and took out my pain arguing with people politically on the internet, matching my mental descent was the fact that half the world seemed to be acting cult like and crazy too... It just added to my questions about whether this world is as logical as I once thought.

Occasionally for stretches not only would be my appetite be higher, but at points suddenly I was blowing through bottles of water as well, and unsurprisingly dehydration had a a more negative physical impact on me than the hunger as leaving me in a more feverish state. It used to go off and on, but I've been in this extra thirst mode for I believe now the last full year running without interrupting. Meanwhile I kept feeling like I was otherwise improving, and what I started to notice is the steps forward would come at an eerily consistent pace, like once a month, to the point where I was literally counting down the days until the next "cycle" to see what would happen. Around Dec 2021, a big thing happened. I can't fully explain it, but it's like whatever anxiety is in me, I shifted a gear down. I work at a place where I walk around a lot and I used to have trouble hurting my legs due to pounding around everywhere, especially when I screwed up and felt shame, but suddenly I had the ability to walk around in a more calm way, something had changed. Then last summer, something even bigger happened. As someone who's struggled my entire life socializing with people, my mental block-semi moved out of the way, and from that point on I had the most conversations like a normal person I've had so far in my adult life. Now I don't think it's quite as easy as like everyone else, but since I'm also so much of a physical trainwreck, I can't really know how things would go yet if I was 100% instead of like 30%. Then a few months ago, something else positive happened, my hunger started to recede to normal. Just a few months ago I was noting how it seemed like a joke how little I used to eat, now it seems crazy the other way. However, my thirst has not receded, therefore physically I'm still in a crazy place. I'm desperately hoping that the next monthly "cycle" will reduce my thirst and I will really see what's on the other side.

My original belief was that I had a breakdown and mentally screwed up for 3+ years, had a breakthrough, and then my body had to adjust for years after that and the "healing process" had a physical impact on me. This led to physical response in pain and then for whatever reason burning more calories leading to extra hunger. However I have also considered an alternative explanation which is that the whole 7 years was all one big process. I had something inside of me wrong before leading to mental blocks socially and I am certain I do not come from a healthy family emotionally. Therefore the initial part may have been enough to affect me mentally, but then halfway through the physical aspects started. I hope to finally complete my journey in upcoming months and then pick up the pieces of what has been 7 years of being mentally compromised and not being able to go on with my life.

If you read all of this, I know what you're probably thinking since it requires accepting the abnormal in a way I wouldn't if I wasn't in this position personally (especially the stuff with the girls in parts 2 and 3 - What the fuk?) But thanks anyways.

Part 1 https://www.reddit.com/r/lifeinapost/comments/10vwccw/my_strange_and_hard_to_believe_life_part_1/

Part 2 https://www.reddit.com/r/lifeinapost/comments/10xhq9s/my_strange_and_hard_to_believe_life_part_2/

Last part I had established a connection online with long lost love of communicating but kind of in a way of playing games more than directly, although it became more obvious over time with her now posting some pictures and tweets for me.

This part is when my life becomes a train crash and we're testing the limits of what is even possible.

As I said in part 1 most of my life I was obsessed with art like movies/tv shows and with sports, and the year before had also gotten back into pro wrestling in a big way (see the username). While not being able to connect with people socially I could connect with these pastimes.

Around March 2016 which is when my grandpa died (I believe coincidental timing) I believe I got tired for a few weeks. I looked up my old tweets at the time and I was complaining about it. In the past if my body clock was really thrown off, I knew how to "reset" by going to bed early, and I knew exactly what it felt like in the morning when I did that. However from this point on I couldn’t reset no matter what time I went to sleep. I was getting self conscious about being able to watch some things I wanted to like tv shows or sports and feeling like I was tainting the experience by not really being there emotionally, and I knew I wasn’t getting as much out of it as I wanted, like being a shell of myself. But then other times it was like I was feeling go undue amount of emotion watching something, like I went into it hoping to having normal connection again, and therefore felt something of a Fake Emotion. See vacuums get filled, your rational side can replace the non existent emotional side by tricking yourself. But this made me not trust myself even more. Meanwhile there seemed to be other things going on with me. Sometimes it seemed like people’s lips on screen were moving out of sync, and then when looking at streetlights they started to get too blurry compared to normal, I thought maybe it was like an anxiety reaction like your pupils change if you’re in danger. Something was Wrong. This all seemed to start overnight around March 2016, but in retrospect I think maybe things were going downhill for a few months before that now or even most of 2015 that I look at the signs. Around mid 2016 I moved to a new city and took the first 4-5 months off trying to fix my problem. I looked into the self help gurus, or came up with my own mental techniques exploring myself mentally, some of which were very creative and sounded great on paper. Eventually I would get into a pattern where I would come up with an idea that felt like a “breakthrough” and then I would be high on optimism for a few days or weeks that I was feeling normal now, but then realized it was just adrenaline and crashed down to earth. I used sports (which I couldn’t shelve like regular tv shows) or occasional movie/tv shows to test how real of an experience it felt like before, so sometimes I got my hopes up, but it never really lasted. I was in a constant battle to catch up on pro wrestling which I had become a fan of a year and a half earlier, always falling months behind and forcing myself to catch up.

(Romantic life section… ignore if you tuned out and downvoted during part 2)

Meanwhile in summer 2016 a girl interviews for my apartment and I fell for her right away, I knew the 2nd strongest feelings I had other than the girl I talked about in part 1/2. I dropped some hints online and she seemed to be signalling that she liked me. So one day I was mad at the first girl, and she shut down her twitter account she was using, I decided to try to set up a twitter account just for the 2nd girl to see if she could half-communicate with me in the same way as I did for the first girl in Part 2. It turns out she did, and I entered a cybering type connection with her. But once again my attempts to get her to talk me more directly failed. Despite implausibly being stuck at the same place as the first girl, you could tell from timing alone it was a different person, she took a different amount of time to respond to my posts, she used a little bit different amount of tweet views to respond, and if I made things dirty she was into a bit different stuff. I learned she was also depressed and an artist, a pattern that would repeat itself over and over again. Eventually when things weren’t going anywhere with her more than with the first girl, I decided to go just go back to the first one. Then, astonishingly, this pattern repeated itself AGAIN. At a new store I started working there was a secretary I felt easier talking to than most people, to the point where I felt like I had a connection with her/hit it off. I felt like there was a physical mannierism signs coming from her that she liked me. I eventually created a twitter account for her mostly out of curiosity if she respond the same way and she did, although I didn’t keep up for long as she had a boyfriend (now fiancee I believe). Then there was another girl who worked there that admittedly I fell for when she was 17, and then a few years later after some hints online from her after another spat with the first girl, I created an account for her and see if it went anywhere, at this point I was still hoping it could lead to a real relationship. Once again other than the measures I made to make sure only she knew about the account, you could tell it was a different person by the style of response alone. But after a few weeks/months of trying that out, like the others I eventually gave up and found myself going back to primary talking or cybering with the first girl (kind of like someone who cheats on their partner but never really leaves them for the mistress). In following years I kept falling for girls at work and I frankly at some point I could tell from the in person patterns repeating itself or just the social connection, that my guess was if I went down this online route with them it would end the same way, but I only did a few more times just to test that it’s still real as much as anything else. One of the main reasons I stopped is my physical condition changed for reasons I will describe in part 4.

Yes, what I just described should frankly be impossible. I'm not sure what to make of it. But I took very rational steps to make sure they were the only ones reading the accounts, and there were many other hints I can't go into detail that it was real. I am a rational self-doubting person who looked for any opportunity I could be getting fooled, and I kept getting proven to me this was really happening. And for the reasons I described in Part 2, there are many reasons why it was especially confirmed for the first girl. So if this strange cyber relationship could happen with her, I guess why not the others?

(End of romantic life section)

So I went this way for over 3 years banging my head against the wall, trying literally hundreds of mental techniques hoping trial and error alone would save me, false alarm breakthrough after false alarm breakthrough, I thought long about the timing of events that happened leading up to my life going to hell overnight in spring 2016, I tried any crazy idea. I refused to do anything else until I could get my normal experience watching the things I loved like art back again, I took an easy job rather than have bigger career ambitions, I knew that it didn't matter until I fixed my problems. Until finally in mid 2019, I seemed to have The Breakthrough, it felt differently almost immediately than the hundreds of others. In previous years I had kind of associated a pain in the leg = good, because when my eyes were blurry, when they improved over the course of a few days for some reason it seemed to have an impact on my leg. So after I had this seemingly big breakthrough, I had that same pain in my leg, except this time it was permanent, so I thought it was a good sign. At this point I couldn’t believe over 3 years had gone by with me walking around like a zombie. In retrospect, 3 years was short compared to how long it really ended up happening. Unfortunately the worst part was still ahead of me.

End of Part 3

Part 1: https://www.reddit.com/r/lifeinapost/comments/10vwccw/my_strange_and_hard_to_believe_life_part_1/

Part 2 - This is where it gets a little weirder but still ultimately remains in the realm of believability.

Last I left the story I had fallen in love with someone in college and started to go over a few years later the signs she might feel the same way. At some point I messaged a youtube account saying she was important to me. I was googling her name one day and found an account for an online music streaming site where you can see people’s history. She hadn’t used it for 6 months but I signed up using my name and thought worst case scenario I could just use the site (this was pre Spotify). She started using the site again within a week. I went Hmm. Just in case it was because of me, I put out some hints as a tester and eventually listened to a song from her playlist. Over time it started to look more and more like she was dropping hints to me back, matching words from my song, etc. Once or twice can be coincidence, but it happens enough time over weeks it no longer seems possible to be a coincidence. I make some other moves to test it like writing a Wordpress blog and linking it to her at 2 AM and then seeing it get a view. Eventually she gets bolder and listens to songs directly from my playlist and then listens to a song with my (not too common) name in the lyrics. At this point things seem Pretty Real.

I start using the location/bio to directly write text to her trying to set up a meeting in person. But she doens't respond that way and she continues to signal me more with songs. She seems to tell me she’s depressed/suicidal with a series of songs about it. At some point I start getting dirtier in the bio. I say at midnight let’s take off our clothes and do stuff at the same time. She would confirm by listening to a song with midnight in the title with sexual avatar or something. At some point I’m looking through her follower list and find an account that seems to be the same person. There is some weird stuff like the facebook account linked to this, has her head photoshopped into the picture in one place. She seems to be playing games like that. You may ask why isn't this the point where you bailed, but you have to remember going back to part 1 I had like 8 months of real world interaction with her and I trust my instincts about her from back then more than anything else.

One day I get the idea to link her a twitter account with 0 followers to write text messages to her. This opens up a new form of communication because on twitter you can see how many views your tweet has, in addition if someone clicks on a tweet it’s an “engagement”. Using this she could respond to me without ever writing words. For example let’s say I ask you whether you like Cats or Dogs more, with one tweet reading Cats and the other Dogs. The twitter views say Cats has 10 views and Dogs has 1. So you clearly just answered me Cats. The amount of views also has meaning, as for example let’s say you only had it as 3 views for Cats and 1 for Dogs, it would be a marginal preference, but if you had 50 views for Cats and 1 for Dogs, it would be a significant preference. So I could ask a bunch of questions and she could respond to me in a way, in a pretty clear way. And since I had the precedent of making things dirty on the other site, it eventually crossed over there too. Let’s say I tell her to take her clothes off and she views the tweet a handful of times, it’s a yes. Or if I type out a bunch of sexual instructions and I get escalating amount of views to signal to me what parts she likes, and then one tweet has by far the most views + plus it has a few clicks/engagements - you can guess what that signalled.

This went on a while, sometimes I get fed up that she wasn’t trying harder to directly communicate with me, until one day there was a breakthrough progress made. She made a twitter account and started making daily tweets and posting pictures that were clearly intended for me. She was talking about being in love with someone and corroborated some things I had learned earlier like being depressed. Some of my tweets she would make a tweet seemingly responding to it (eg. me bringing up some mental health technique I learned about imagining yourself in a calm place, then her saying that she’s picturing herself on a beach with her love). So just further evidence that I didn't already really need that she was really there, although it did rule out the possibility of a 3rd party catfish at the least. At this point I was feeling pretty good about where things were going and that I could get her to admit it soon and try to have a real relationship. Little did I know the crazy journey that lied ahead.

End of Part 2

My life literally should be impossible. It’s made me reconsider what’s really going on in this world (especially in recent years when so many other people seem to be nuts and in a cult-like state too) or if supernatural or spirits are real or something.

I tried and it’s too long for one part. I will post Part 1 which is the relative normal beginnings of my life and then move on to the really psycho stuff in later posts.

I grew up with parents I would consider a form of narcissist. My mom was the one I realized was more screwed up earlier on. She comes off like a 12 year old in an old person’s body in terms of overt mannerisms/shallowness/etc. She is a “follower”. By the time I became older I realized my dad was actually the true narcissist in the family, he is just more normal on the outside surface. My theory is that my mom is just appeasing his toxic worldview and trying to impress him hence coming off like a caricature, along with some form of narcissism herself. My aunt and uncle on my dad’s side are both isolated socially. My aunt lives in the middle of nowhere with her pets being her kids. My uncle is hermit who’s kids he somehow had are not in contact with him anymore. I saw my aunt and my grandparents once every 5-10 years (not really for distance reasons), and have seen my uncle 5 minutes in my life. I think my dad was the one who didn’t address any of his problems, ignored the entire concept of emotional health and just tried super hard with the small talk skills to act normal socially but without really communicating or bonding with people. He spent his whole life trying to get better at talking but didn’t think about getting better at listening. My brother, it would be complicated to describe but he also inherited a lot of emotional confusion and semi-narcissism imo, it is complicated but he’s clearly not all there.

Anyway I would say I had zero warmth growing in my family. As a result of having no early relationships to build on, my social skills were absolute dogshit. By the time I was a teenager I was obsessed with my inability to talk to other kids normally. No social skills means no girls etc. My “friend group” for a few years were people I didn’t have a connection with at all. I felt obligated to do it to impress my pro social parents, they would tell me to go call them if I didn’t spend enough time with them. I had more success socially online. I was passionate about movies/tv/sports/etc. and found a great community to talk to people with. Those were my real friends in reality. I feel like my experience emotionally watching things like movies was normal compared to the other kids. Not something missing like in person socialization. Hence I was more attracted to it.

Ok, fast forward a few years to college. I met someone on my college dorm room and I immediately feel like she was meant to be in my life, whether that means just as a friend if he was too pretty for me or something more romantically, I knew something important had happened to me. I hung out with her for a few weeks and a few other people… it was the closest I’ve been to having friends like a normal person, but my main interest was in her. I was living on a cloud. After a few weeks I realized she was literally the most beautiful person I’d ever seen in my life and well, it started to become clear by then what was happening to me. At some point near the end of that first month, things receded a bit, maybe it was me, maybe it was her, but it wasn’t hanging out the same way in terms of me and her and 1-2 other people, it was more like I saw her when I saw the rest of the college dorm, which was still a decent amount and made for a great year. I still felt like I had an emotional connection to her and felt easier to talking to her than others. There was a lot of moments over the course of the year like eye contact, etc. that in retrospect was probably happening for a reason. I later found some twitter accounts by her from around the time we met with her talking about having feelings for someone, and there was even a moment where another girl on the floor did a “_______ has a mystery crush. His initials are JR” (my initials are JR). Anyway if I had more confidence in myself, I probably would’ve figured it out at the time, but I somehow denied it that she could like me, even after that blatant initials thing. I sent her a facebook message at the end of the year revealing my feelings, and she stopped talking to me the last couple weeks of the eyar.

Now in the following years, I started to replay things over in my head and think about all the signs and thought maybe she did have feelings for me all that time. As for shutting me out at the end so to speak, that’s not necessarily a bad sign, depending on the person it could be a good sign actually (I would later find out it was). After 2 years I still held a burning torch for my long lost love and couldn't help but google her name all the time to try to find new pictures or things she posted.

And that brings me to the end of Part 1.

This post is actually three posts that I have posted on different subreddits for people with disabilities. However, I have not found support there. Maybe I can get support here?

I wonder if it's me demanding too much , or if my daughter may be depressed.

To be clear : We are not from US

My daughter is 27 years old, she has a neurological disability from birth as a result of prematurity. (Cerebral Palsy) She has quite severe paresis of the legs, mild paresis of the hands, mild speech disorder and sensory integration disorder. Intellectually, everything is fine. Outside the home, she gets around with a walker, while at home she gets around with furniture. However, the thing that worries me most about her is her lack of desire to live a normal life. After high school, her disabled peers go on to college or post-secondary education. My daughter failed all possible approaches to her high school diploma despite tutoring. She was never an outstanding student, especially in science (people with her condition mainly have problems with science and spatial vision). She often had some of the lowest grades in class . She got into high school on appeal, because no technical or vocational schools in the area wanted a disabled student. In high school she also ended up in a class with extensions in science, because there was the only inclusive class there and I wanted my daughter to have a supportive teacher. Then her learning problems got even worse. Talks with the school psychologist who explained to her that due to her condition she should study better than others because she has more time only made her more discouraged. She doesn't want to go to any job either, turning down all possible internships. Her only income is a disability pension. She says she doesn't feel the need for money, and that's a fact, because the pension gives all of it back to me. She also doesn't seem to understand social conventions. She often doesn't know how to sustain a conversation other than with half-words. Well, unless she talks about her passions, then the conversation takes the shape of monologues. For her age she is overly emotional, anything can discharge a lot of stress, despair as well as a burst of joy, but she is neither loud nor aggressive. She has also always been unable to name her emotions, or to read the emotions of others or sympathize with other people. She only remembers others when she needs something. Her only acquaintances are two rehabilitation campers and a girl with the same disability she met online. A few years ago, she became very interested in her own rehabilitation, which helped her get out of her wheelchair four years ago. She can talk non-stop about rehabilitation, neurology or her own brain damage. She also intensively has rehabilitation. As far as I know, these contacts are irregular as well, and she speaks up when she feels the need to do so (e.g. to explore more about neurology or her other passion, Japan) she has a rather teenage style of dressing, tying her hair in two ponytails or braids. Also, she reads books mainly for teenage girls. She boasted to me that she is now writing a detective story about a disabled teenager herself on the Internet. She follows instructions nicely, but lacks initiative in herself. She could live in a mess until I bring it to her attention to clean up. Any change in her strict schedule causes her to freak out or cry, no matter what the change is about. Outside of the aforementioned social interactions, I guess social relationships could be non-existent. At family gatherings, she doesn't even pretend to listen but stares at the phone, the wall and does some discreet waving of hands under the table, sometimes repeating phrases she has heard.

What to do? I am very worried about her future. Especially with her own siblings avoiding her according to them she is strange and shows no initiative in her relationship with them. They also said that they will not take care of her in the future....

For the record: We are from Eastern Europe (I don't want to give the exact name of the country) and the disability pension, converted, is about $365.69 a month. This is not enough to support herself, so I'm worried about her future.

As for my English, I am writing here with the help of an advanced online translator, so my level of English in the post may differ from that in the comments.

As for my daughter's future, I asked her what she would possibly like to become by profession. At the suggestion of something related to neurology, she denied it. She said she is only interested in her disability to understand herself and to walk better. She also says she doesn't understand how other people can enjoy helping others, the same as giving someone gifts. She says she would rather receive gifts and get help than help or give something to others.

And as for the problem: I told you yesterday that Diana is close with her physiotherapists from her camps. There are two of them, they are a engaged couple. They met with my daughter five years ago. She is my daughter's age, while he is not much older. It is thanks to them that my daughter got up from her wheelchair and now walks by a walker and furniture . It was also from them that she learned more and more about neurology and her own rehabilitation. Together they also share a passion for Japan.

At first I was against it because it's not very professional, but I finally agreed. They were the ones who encouraged her to go into rehabilitation. It was thanks to them that she was joyful. They were the ones who took her out for sushi, to the park, restaurants or cafes for the first time in her life. Thanks to them, she went on a diet, as she was found by doctors to be quite overweight. Now she is definitely better able to move around. They are the first people she misses or looks forward to seeing. They are the first and only people she hugs with.

In our country, disabled people usually go to such camps with caregivers. Diana used to go with me.

In March of this year at the camp, her friends told her that they were changing jobs in the near future. She was devastated by this. True, they now work closer to us in terms of kilometers, but the place where they work is no longer a rehabilitation camp, but an ordinary rehabilitation office. You can go there for something similar to a camp, but you have to look for a hotel and food on your own. I promised her that we would go to them even more often than before for camps. I was sure that in such a large city some hotel nearby would not be a problem. Unfortunately, just before the planned trip, it turned out that you have to get there by bus, and I'm afraid of riding buses in a foreign city, so I told my daughter that we should give up.

Since then, Diana has been very sad. She doesn't smile as often as she used to. She even tried to look for an assistant. Unfortunately, the government program in our country does not allow assistants to travel with their patients.

The daughter also doesn't want to go to any other camp, or even to the former one, because she says there are no more physiotherapists of a good level there. I have to agree with this, because for a long time, physiotherapists at a good level started to regularly leave that place, and her friends were the last good ones. Now the level of physiotherapy at that place has reportedly dropped sharply since her daughter's friends left that job. However, I would love to go there again because of my friends who still go there with their children.

My daughter only now accepts the rehabilitation that she has regularly in our town, and exercises at home by herself.

What can I do to convince her to go to any rehabilitation camp?

Well, I wanted to finally do something for my daughter. I know that the physiotherapists she is friends with were also the best specialists she worked with, because they made her start walking with the help of a walker.I decided that we would go to an intensive rehabilitation camp with these physiotherapists in January. I asked my daughter to arrange everything. She managed to sign up for the only possible week in January, for four hours of physiotherapy a day. I wouldn't have signed up if my friend Sofia (name changed) hadn't offered to be the one to pay for a hotel room or a short-term rental flat. At the same time, I talked Diana (my daughter) to sign up for another rehabilitation camp in the same city, which one of my friends recommended to me. Besides, this camp has "intensive physiotherapy" in its name so it must be good,but my daughter only wants to go to the camp where her friends work. I told her that I think she only wants to go there to hang out with her friends, which is not how it should be.

For a while I thought she didn't even want to go to this camp where her friends work,because when Sofia called to ask if we had already chosen a hotel/apartment Diana said "Does she really need to call now?". "I don't know what the address is, I didn't ask !" Sofia heard everything and almost took offence at Diana and didn't want to help us anymore. I also told Diana that she had behaved terribly.This physiotherapy office where the camps are organised cooperates with a certain hotel, and the owner of this office/camp gave Diana the contact details. (Diana's friends are not the owners, they just work there). It turned out that the office was four kilometres from the hotel. I already wanted to refuse because I couldn't imagine travelling by bus and four kilometres was too much to walk, but after talking to Anna (another friend) she convinced me to take the bus. On the other hand, I was worried that there was supposed to be a three-hour break between the first two hours and the second two hours of physiotherapy! We would be going back to the hotel at six o'clock in the evening, and I am afraid to go back at such a late hour because it is already dark by then. Anyway, there's probably a lot of criminals in such a big city, I was talking to another friend about it, Ellie, who's also on a child with Cerebral Palsy, and would like to go to camp there too, and she said there's no point going to camp in January, it's better to go to camp in the summer when it's still sunny at six in the evening.

Sofia said that she would look for a flat close to the physiotherapy office so that I would feel safe. In the meantime she called the owner of the physiotherapy office and it turned out that it took two buses to get from the hotel to the physiotherapy office! It turned out that Diana had known about this for a long time, only that she had hidden this fact from me. Sofia and I decided that it was too much for me and I made my daughter cancel this week-long physiotherapy camp.

Diana is heartbroken and has not spoken to me for three days now. And yet Sofia said she would look for us a hotel in the same street where the rehabilitation office is. Only that Diana was furious and said that there was no hotel in that street. I also suggested to my daughter that her friends can always visit her at the physiotherapy camp I want to go to, but strangely enough she doesn't want that at all. She also accuses me of destroying the chance of her walking better, and accuses me of destroying her friendships. (Although from what Diana said her friends don't hold a grudge against her).Diana also said that she had received an email from the owner of the physiotherapy office. This lady wrote that if we cancel the physiotherapy camp again at the last minute we will still have to pay 50% of the price of each hour. Diana is heartbroken and has said that she will never go there!

How do I calm her down?Have I really done something wrong?

I'm tired of making friends or trying to fit in with society (school.) due to my continuous moving of countries; I’ve grown tired of leaving people and creating new relationships. Once I transferred to a boarding school (because I was tired of moving), I thought I could develop stable friendships with people, but I always ended up leaving them. However, I would leave them because they would become very toxic towards me. Many of them only cared about their looks or getting validation from men, which would annoy me to the point where I would distance myself. They would so invalidate my feeling whilst I became a therapist for them. I don't know whether that is because I got used to leaving people quickly because of my experience moving schools and countries. Being able to distance myself quickly would be great if I genuinely did not give a damn about losing people from my life, but it affects me. I blamed myself for not being able to create deep connections with others while they would do fucked up shit to me. However, maybe I'm too quick to judge, but I'm tired of their bullshits. I've seen others bonding with people easily, but I can't. I don't know if something is wrong with me or if maybe I’m too sensitive. I don’t know, I want to have someone that I can talk to, not only to my therapist. I’m lonely and desperate for someone.

This post is by no means a flex. I’m writing about my experience attending the wealthiest boarding school in Switzerland. To start, I have moved to many countries in my life, one of them being Romania which is still a developing country. I have also attended public schools, so I have experienced both highs and lows financially. Moving on, my experience in the school has been both negative and positive. This school consists of every 1% worldwide and has never been the most degrading yet insightful experience. What I realized was how self-absorbed and self-centred people can be. They all somehow manage to make themselves victims in any situation, and they cannot see things from different perspectives.

I’ve had many arguments where the others do not even try to understand my point but get super defensive when I wasn’t attacking them. Some people would do the most outrageous thing and still be able to victimize themselves. In my old school, I could have debates or any conversation in general without anyone getting overly defensive. I was also shocked by their carelessness with their wealth. They would go to clubs, spend 80k on bottles of Dom Perignon, and throw tantrums when their parents don’t get what they want. Honestly, during my 5years in this school, I haven’t been able to create any real connection with people and felt utterly lonely. However, I do feel like the students act this way because their parents never showed them affection, only to compromise it with materialistic things. I don’t regret coming to this school as I got to experience what people in the 1% are like, but it tormented me mentally. Many told me that I could not complain about anything, especially my mental health because I have more than I need in life. This is accurate, and I appreciate what I have, but many wealthy people are very lonely. There were suicides in my school and other boarding schools in Switzerland, and there could be many reasons towards that. The parent’s pressure to succeed, drug problems and oppressed emotions. So overall, it was a good experience, but it also led me to many mental health issues such as depression, ED and anxiety that I have resources that can help me with, which is something I am also grateful for lol.

I don't know how to put it. In a way I have to tell you my family story. I also want to ask you about whether my reaction was appropriate, socially acceptable, because I have autism spectrum disorder, so I don't often understand social norms. I would also like to know how you see it from the perspective of mothers (if there any), And maybe stepmothers. (if there any)

Well, I am eighteen years old girl. I have a half-brother from my father's side of the family ( let's call him Charles for the sake of history) who is only eleven months older than me, so technically we are the same age. I always knew that I had a brother with whom my dad sees once a month. I didn't broach the subject, however, because I knew my mum would cry at the mere mention of my brother, and she would love to pretend he didn't exist. I didn't ask about him even though I was very curious, but I don't want my mother to suffer because of me. Unfortunately, she can talk for hours about their "wonderful" love story, and I lost my only friend from my early primary school days (the only one in my whole life), but I have to tell you the story so you understand the context.

Well, my dad and Charles' mum (let's call her Alice) dated all through high school, they are peers. Nineteen years ago, Ala got pregnant, they decided to get married quickly and moved in with Alicia's parents. At the time, they were both just out of teaching college and to earn money for the family my dad started working as a high school teacher. As far as I know from him, it was during the pregnancy that their marriage started to fall apart because Alicia was no longer as cheerful and full of life as before. He spent a lot of time at school with his male and female students. And so he fell in love with my mother, who was then in her graduating class and was his (adult) student. They quickly established an affair between them and soon conceived me. My dad was fired from his job and got involved with my mum because she was, and is, very fragile, unable to cope without him. My mum, on the other hand, forced it on my dad that Charles was not present in our lives, she never even met him, she didn't want to meet him.

A few months ago, Charles wrote to me on Instagram. I was very scared of this confrontation, but I wrote back. At first, we just argued for a couple of weeks. Eventually, though, he confessed that he wasn't angry with me, just that he envied the fact that I had a father. Charles is also autistic and he was the one who helped me accept my being on the spectrum. He's already been diagnosed since early childhood, I didn't ask my parents to see a specialist until two years ago, and after a while I got a diagnosis. My mum is still resentful of me about it, she says I want to stand out and am looking for problems for myself by force. As for Charles, we liked each other very much, we wrote all the time, we started to like each other's special interests. We also started seeing each other (in secret from my mother and our father) I also met his mother, a wonderful woman. She is the first adult who ever hugged me or asked me how I was at school. Yes, my dad drives me to Social Skills Training and SI classes, but I don't even talk much with him or my mum about anything. They both claim that marriage is more important than parenting and that I will move out one day and they have to look after their love.

Unfortunately, the secret utopia ended when I once left my phone unlocked in the kitchen and my mum read all the messages from Charles. When I came back she shouted that she had suspected for a long time that I should break contact with him, that genes and the same surname don't make us a family, that she didn't recognise Charles as Dad's son and that it was probably all Alice's doing because she wanted to get Dad back. I started crying, throwing plates, calling mum an immature idiot and dad a pervert with no honour. I was in bed for two days and there was no contact with me. I moved out to my aunt (Dad's sister) who is very supportive of me having contact with Charles. My dad, on the other hand, keeps writing that I hurt him and my mum and they expect an apology. He also asks me not to contact Charles for Mum's sake.

and I feel that I been too harsh...

I had to split this post up because it's too long for reddit. This is part 2/2. You can find part 1 here.

​

Pain

I actually thought I'd just do some dragon parties and make new friends now. Then everything will be alright. But it was not like that. Covid-19 came and it was impossible to make big parties. Instead I went jogging a lot - with a lot of pain. I hurt my foot tendon. My arms still hurt, I had lost all my muscles as I said. Nothing had changed in that regard. Then I couldn't walk anymore, only with crutches. I was afraid it would be the same as with my arms. And there I was... No friends, no company, all alone, broken arms, broken legs.... It would be nice to say I was sad. The truth is, I cried every day. Alone in the corner of my room. Day after day, month after month. Nothing changed. My legs walked again after a while and I graduated from high school, I finished my school career. The year passed and I was just crying. At the end of the year I moved to my first own flat in Bonus-City: 200,000 inhabitants. I started to study mathematics. Good news: I made friends there and was no longer alone. But that year marked me forever.

However, the end of the year, so the last few months in the new city were amazing.

I started programming Android apps. After a while, I decided to program social networks. It was going very slowly. I was partying a lot in the big city next to Bonus-City: Galba-City, 2 million inhabitants. Many new friends, many girls, much sex, much alcohol. And in December, two things happened.

First: I founded a new company. I ran social networks (cannot give more details than that). At the time of founding, I had 5000 downloads on all apps.

Second, I learned to love caffeine. I never drank coffee in my life. But then one time I drank so much that I was shaking all over. Actually, I drank it to work because I was sick. But I was shaking so much that I could forget about working. Instead, I went into the city and walked around. I loved it. Since then, So I started to love caffeine.

I started to chug coffee to celebrate. And a lot of it. A lot. I bought the strongest coffee powder there was. And always before celebrating, I filled the filter to the top, to the brim. I also filled the water container to the top. So that I then had 1.5 liters of enormously strong coffee. I then drank it in one go, without putting the bottle down once. I was totally on caffeine, and then I got drunk and went to the club. It was madness. I was always totally drunk, staggering and just talking shit, but thanks to the caffeine I felt like I was sober. It was amazing. I did that every week.

End of the year on New Year's Eve. My goals for the next year: I decided to put the celebrating on hold and crack 10 million downloads. Also, I wanted 100 employees. I was tired of doing things in a small way. I wanted to be big.

​

The 60,000 Time

It was January 01 of 2021 and I stopped going out completely. All I did was program. Day and night. And I took caffeine in large quantities. I started drinking 1 liter of coffee every single day, from the same strong coffee I used to party. Every morning 1 liter. I felt high. Like I was floating. Like I was in a tunnel. Then I listened to The Weeknd and programmed. I did nothing else.

Success came soon. After just a few weeks, the first apps reached 10,000 downloads. One among them was particularly growing fast: I cannot tell you the name. An app for a very policitcal community. And every time there was something related big in the media, I noticed a jump in downloads. It was the first app to hit 10,000 downloads.... And also the first app to fall victim to a hacker attack. Luckily, I was programming when this happened, so I was able to shut down the servers immediately and closed the security hole. No serious damage was done. But my app was a victim of a hacker attack.... Crazy shit. But that just motivated me more. That was just three weeks after New Year's eve.

Then I decided to do a major marketing move. I would LOVE to tell you the details, but I can't. You could immediately identify me then. I will just say this. It was a little dirty but smart. And no one took damage or was deceived. It wasn't illegal or something, it was perfectly fine... Just a little dirty played cards. And dear lord, this marketing move should change my life forever.

So I kept programming, day and night. On Caffeine. All else I did in the first three months of this year was go to the gym once with Jan. Nothing else.

And here's the thing. I took the app to a brilliant level. The app was good, very very good.

And then... The marketing move took off. There were a few big political events happening around the world and the app just got... 300.000 downloads in one single day. In total it had 650.000 downloads after a short time.

Well... Of course, I monetized my apps. That means advertising and premium. Premium in the app cost 40€ per user. Yes, an insane price, but the users paid.

In that month I made €60,000 in profit. Not revenue. PROFIT. Of that, €20,000 was on one particular day alone. The coup of my life.

Out of nowhere, I was catapulted into relevance. I received over 9000 emails that day alone. I received a few requests for statements from the press. I didn't respond to any requests, but there was press anyway. Third time in my life in the press. And this time REALLY BIG. Even the New York times wrote about it. There were articles in all kinds of languages around the world. I can't count how many articles there were. They all wrote bullshit though. They twisted the facts and made us look bad. I cannot give you details. But what I've learned from being in the press three times in my life is: The press writes what they want. But that's a story for itself.

I hired an acquaintance to be a moderator. So she handles all the reported posts, profiles, messages, etc. I pay her well for this job, it's a job with a huge responsibility. I have always dreamed of having employees. And here I am... My first employee.

I decided it was time to celebrate. Coincidentally, it was carnival right then, so I celebrated for 5 days straight. It was perfect.

However, after Carnival came a few problems. Google removed the app from the Play Store because of pressure from the press. Total bullshit. But it didn't stop there. Our advertising partner was a subsidiary of Google. Not only did they end the cooperation, they even cheated us out of all the money we made with them in February: €30,000. They declared it "invalid" just like that. And there was nothing I could do. I was cheated out of 30,000€ just like that. Sure you can say "you still earned 30,000€, be happy!", but no. The money is ours, we earned it. It is fraud. And how the hell am I supposed to be happy if I was cheated out of 30,000€ ?!

I remember a few years ago I stole bikes, for two weeks. Just to pay a bill of 200€. And now? I earned 20,000€ in one day and was cheated out of 30,000€.

So I took care of the problems. I hired three more employees, but without pay - on a voluntary basis. And new problems came up. Hackers again. They couldn't hack the network because I had improved the security, but they used their resources to flood the app with posts from which they made money. We had several teams of hackers trying to do this. I think there were 3 teams.

Anyway. Since that point in my life I have had teams of hackers EVERY TIME trying to hack me or my work or use it for fraud. All the time. There are no breaks where the teams are gone. They are always there.

A few weeks later, 9am. I'm still asleep, having programmed late into the night. I was at my parents' house. My beloved mother comes to my bedside, wakes me up and says there is a call for me. I answer it.

What was I expecting? I expected LARRY PAGE to call me personally and apologize for the €30,000 fraud and then transfer it to my bank account!!

What did I get? My bank woman calls. The conversation was absolutely ridiculous. It went exactly as follows:

• Her: Hello
• Me: Hello
• Her: You have had a large sum of money transferred to your account in the last few days (the 30,000€).
• Me: Yes...?
• Her: Why?
• Me: Um, that's my thing...?
• Her: Okay, but why?
• Me: I don't want to say.
• Her: Oh, please!
• Me: No.
• Her: Come on! Pleeeease!
• Me: ... uhm... no?!
• Her: Okay, but then there is a suspicion of money laundering.

I was shocked. I was woken up at 9 am the morning because I was suspected of money laundering...! I was cheated out of money, 30,000 fucking euros. And now I am suspected of money laundering. Fucking bastards. I told her I would call back in a few days. I then clarified everything, nothing happened.

And now ladies and gentlemen, comes the best day of my life. I call it the "13,000 day".

I had arranged with a friends with benefits from partying, Gebriella, that we would meet and just talk. About our lives. I liked it because I had a lot to talk about. Also, that day was the day I moved into my new apartment. So, I woke up, drove to the new apartment and got the keys. After that, I went to the bank to get money. I insisted that everything was in 5€ bills. I didn't get everything in €5 bills unfortunately, but about €6,000 was in €5 bills and the remaining 7,000€ was in €10, €20 and €50 bills. So in total I got 13.000€ cash from the bank. With these 13.000€ I drove back to my parents. Shortly after I met with Gebriella. I took the 13.000€ with me. Do you want to know what kind of feeling it is to walk through a gas station with 13.000€ cash in the backpack? It's interesting. I didn't feel like the king. It was neither a good nor a bad feeling. It was just... interesting. Hard to describe.

Then we met and had dinner. She told me her life story. Nothing special to be honest. Afterwards I told her mine. She was very surprised and taken away. Honestly, I think I have an amazing story to tell, but everyone may judge that for themselves. After that we went to my new empty apartment - with the money. We threw the money in the air, danced to the music, kissed the money, etc. We were just happy. Especially me. I'm sure you believe me that it's a great feeling to have finally realized my dream after years, that my business is up and running. After years of just crying, after a lot of blood, after stealing bikes, after lawyer problems, 200,000€ of debt, a full year of depression.... Yes, it feels very good to throw 13,000€ cash in the air and dance on it. Then I ate a 50€ bill. With honey. It tasted horrible and it took me 5 minutes to swallow it.... But it was a great feeling.

Then we went to celebrate and went to a club. I was totally in my thoughts, still with my life story. So I just stood around and didn't dance. But a friend of Gabriella's tried to hit on me. Elif tried to persuade me to dance all the time. It took her a lot of time. But at some point I was in dance mode and was able to get away from my thoughts.

We danced and after a short time we kissed. And DEAR GOD, those were the softest lips I have ever felt. But that was not the point. I thought nothing special at first, but what came from Elif was not a normal club kissing. It was much more. She kissed me not as if she was horny for me, but she kissed with love. She kissed with enormous abandon, as if we were getting married next week. And I'm not exaggerating when I say that. There is a big difference between kissing and kissing with love. And I had never had kissing with so much love. Not even with Maria, and Maria kissed me with really much devotion, because she actually loved me. But Elif... I don't have words to describe it, but it was magical. It was divine. Ever since Maria, I've been longing for love. And of course the kiss with Elif wasn't real love, I mean we didn't even know each other, but she put so much love into the kissing, I was immediately "in love" and addicted to her. We danced and kissed all night long. Until 7 in the morning. Then I went home. The next day I did nothing but lie in bed until late at night. But... Elif invited me to a house party. And of course I came. At the house party we talked and danced and kissed. Nothing sexual, but I didn't even want that. The love she gave me was heavenly. Really heavenly. I couldn't have had anything better. She said to me, "But we'll see each other again.... Right?". And I said, "Yes, of course...". I had fallen for her, that was the most beautiful thing I had ever experienced. The love she had given me was the most beautiful thing in my entire life. Of course I wanted to see her again. I drove her home and we talked, cuddled and kissed for hours in the car. It was perfect.

I never saw her again.

But that was the best day of my life. Even though it was actually two days, it felt like one day. And it was, without a doubt, the best of my entire life.

After that, I went back to work. My new apartment wasn't really an apartment at all. I call it "my office." Because there is no couch, no TV and not even a bed. There is nothing to relax. There are only shelves, kitchen, toilet, and a desk with a computer. I slept on an 80€ mattress from Ikea. It was so bad that I heard the springs creaking every time I lay down on it. In addition, we had forgotten to take cutlery. But instead of buying some, I saved money and stole cutlery from a restaurant. All this even though I earned 60.000€ last month? Yes. I used all the money to invest in the company again. I didn't buy myself anything. Absolutely nothing.

The mattress thing got too bad at some point though. I replaced it with a 160€ mattress and since then I could sleep well.

It was not a work phase and I listened to music, but once again I completely isolated myself from the outside world and just programmed. Day and night. I devoted myself only to the company. I had decided at some point a few years ago that I don't care what I lose, how much I cry, how much my mother cries and how much I bleed. I will pay any price to realize my dream. Absolutely any price.

So what did it matter to me to isolate myself once again? Nothing.

This went on for months. Months of nothing but programming. No people, no girls. I was very alone. It was normal at that time to lie down on my mattress at night to fall asleep and I just started crying. It was nothing special. It was like that almost every day. But I had 200,000 monthly active users on our apps. So why would I care? I didn't give a shit. Like I said, I'll pay any price.

The most I had in terms of female interaction was this. A user of one of our apps drew the logo of the app and sent us a picture. And just the fact that a user painted our logo, was so awesome to me, that I printed the picture and framed it. Then I hung it up in my room and jerked off to it 5 times in just one hour. It's "female interaction" because you know... There's a girl on the logo...

That's how the time went on. I saved the app from going bankrupt. I managed to get it back into the Play Store. I put all the money I made back into the company. I didn't take a loan on the company or go to an investor. Instead, I invested my private money. In the meantime, I even went into private debt for a few thousand euros. Out of my private pocket, I took all money I saved my entire life and all the money the company made in profits, and invested it. I invested over €70,000. And at the same time, I don't even have a bed and I steal cutlery from restaurants. The company is not for profit. It is philanthropy. It's to make the world a better place. It's my vision. It's my dream.

I've often thought about Maria. What would she think about all that happened after we broke up? I realized that I had forgotten her to some extent. I knew who she was, of course, but the emotional connection to her was gone. So was the emotional attachment to everything else from my past life. But deep in my heart, I was, and will forever be, still the same dragon as I was before...

During this whole time I was on 1.5 liters of coffee every day. Totally on caffeine, every day. It helped me. I was in my tunnel vision.

Then one day I was on TikTok. Just to get inspiration for our own apps (that was actually the reason). And then... THIS ONE SONG WAS PLAYING.... The song that was playing the when I was dancing with Elif at the house party. It was playing all the time. Me and Elif and LOVE the song to it's core. And when I heard this song all of a sudden again... All the feelings for Elif came up again. And that didn't leave me untouched. I was shocked and my emotions exploded. I've never had such a blatant shiver run down my spine as the moment I heard this song. That moment took me away. I couldn't handle it and increased my coffee dose from 1.5 liters a day to 3 liters. I just doubled it. I was completely high on caffeine every day. But it helped me cope with the loneliness. And I was already on caffeine every day for the whole year. After a while, I forgot what it was like to be sober.

My everyday life was not very nice. There came a day when we had a new hacker team breathing down our necks. And they were good. Better than the other hacker teams. They were doing massive damage. So I initiated a state of emergency in the company and asked all my employees to be extra active. Since I was still the only programmer, I had to find a long-term solution on my own. So I slept only 3 hours every night - and drank 3 liters of coffee every day. I thought it would only take a few days, but it took two weeks to solve the problem. At the end of those sleepless two weeks I started seeing ghosts. I was totally wiped out and whenever I saw a window somewhere, I imagined a ghost breaking in through the window and threatening all the people. And I thought that was very funny. It happened everywhere, at home and at university. It fucked my concentration. I had to put a stop to it, so I quit caffeine - only to start again a few weeks later. I had become addicted...

But I didn't care at this point. It helped me. And I pay any price, so what was the point? I didn't care.

It was even blatant that I got into the second fight of my life because of this caffeine fatigue. A guy on the train was pissed that I had gotten on the train too early. And I was so wiped out and on caffeine that without a word I pushed him twice. With all my power. The second time he fell against a metal trash can. He had a tooth fall out. But I didn't care. He was interfering with my mission to save the company. So what was the point? I didn't care. Only he called the police. So I had to run away. It was the second time in my life that I ran away from the cops. The first time they caught me. But this time I was successful. I ran away from the cops and after a few hours I was at home and finally I could continue progamming.

About this time, I also had a conversation with an investor. I came 30 min too late, I was tired and high on caffeine. He didn't invest... But that's okay.

My loneliness reached a whole new level. I remember this day when a fly flew in through the window. And at first I thought to myself normally "you dirty whore, I'm going to kill you". But then all of a sudden I felt much better. Then I realized it was because I wasn't alone in the room anymore. It was a damn fly, but I felt so much better. So, of course, I did not kill it.

And there was no end to the evil. Other advertising partners terminated the cooperation and cheated us out of several thousand euros each. Because of political reasons... In addition, one of our employees cheated me. I got so many knives in my back, it was a very very painful time. All I did was programming and training. I collapsed many times at my desk while programming. Then I would sleep on the floor for an hour and after that... keep programming. My eyes got noticeably worse. Every month worse and worse. And I had become addicted to caffeine. But I didn't care about any of that. I had a vision and I would pay any price.

I just turned 21 a few weeks ago but at this point I no longer felt like myself. I was no longer connected to the me I once was. I had never been so far from myself as I was at that point. I have never been such a stranger to myself. My soul was eaten away by loneliness and sadness. I cried every day. I had not seen my mother in months. I lost all connection to society, to myself, and to all the people who were dear to me.

I became an alien. But I saved my company, my vision. We have over 100,000 monthly active users and are among the top 7 apps for this community. And it's a huge community. We are one of the BIG names. This is the greatest achievement of my life.

In total, my apps have just reached the 1 million downloads.

ONE MILLION.

But let me tell you this. I am just getting started with everything. And if there's one thing I've learned, it's this. Everything has it's price.

The scream.

I love Juli. When she was born 3 years before me, she was so quiet - the doctors were worried if everything was okay.

But when I was born, I screamed so much that mom was worried if everything was okay. I screamed. Like a spitfire. For an hour without stopping.

Now I know: That's exactly what my life was supposed to be - a big long scream.

Gomus-Town had 200 inhabitants. We didn't have much money, but we didn't have little either. Quite normal. My mother taught me to be diligent. My father gave me all the freedom imaginable. I was always different. In kindergarten I told the other children how bad it would be to go on vacation - one should rather go on vacation in the garden. At the age of 5 I learned to play the piano, from my beloved mother. She is a private music teacher, the best there is. She always gave student concerts. I performed there, even though I was not actually one of her students. At the age of 6 I had a sex dream for the first time - with a girl "Michelle" from kindergarten. Unfortunately, I don't remember too much from my childhood, but I do remember that I ran away from home about 5 times. Because of nonsense - I was drama prone. But in the evening I always came back and everything was fine. But mom cried tears - only I didn't know that then.

I always had this one thing: If I was excited about something, I did it right. Done it extremely. Bled for it like it was my life.

​

Elementary school.

My elementary school was in Amatta-City, population: 4000. There I was a nerd. But everyone liked me, I was popular, smart and even athletic! But in the 3rd grade something changed. I don't know what. But they started to bully me. That left its mark on me.

Also during that time, I was 9, I started to love math. I asked dad how to calculate with letters. He said he would explain it to me another time. And he did. And since then I loved mathematics.

The bullying got stronger and so did my love for math. In 4th grade it got to the point where my only friends were: Math and piano. And when piano wasn't going good, I would get really mad. Very very mad. And then I would punch the piano keys and do math. And if something wasn't going well with math after a few hours, I pucnhed the table and played the piano again for a few hours. At school we had "learning folders." Every Friday we had to write a little essay about what we had learned that week. The other kids wrote about step division or something. But me, I wrote about complex numbers and group theory. In my free time, I didn't go play with friends. Ever. I didn't have any at all. But that wasn't the reason. The reason was, I rather learned mathematics from the 8th - 10th grade and tried to solve unsolved mathematical problems. And the latter even with success: No just kidding. Besides, I was on mathematics internet forums.

Don't ask me how, but I somehow managed to "pick up" a girl despite the bullying. Lea. She was pretty. We were never officially together and never kissed on the mouth, but I consider her my first girlfriend.

​

Next school.

I went to a high school in Funku-City: population 40,000. It was a very good Christian school. It is located on a small island to which you have to go by boat. On Noolan-School I became an even bigger nerd. I bought an algebra book, which is covered in mathematics studies in the 3rd semester. I never managed to finish it, but I spent the whole day with it. And I started to participate in mathematics competitions. With very great success. Every two or three months I achieved a great success, for example, getting to the next round with a first prize. In the 5th and 6th grade there were very big successes. I had so many successes, the school paid a teacher overtime to give me remedial lessons alone. In one contest, I was in the top 10 out of 4000 participants and won a "trip" with the other top 10. Or in another contest that spanned an entire year, I scored the grand prize (only one person can get that) and received a medal and 400€. They also put me on their website, just like everyone else who achieved this extraordinary success. But the special thing about me was: usually these people are in the 10th or 11th grade. I was in 6th grade, which led them to change their rules. If you solved the tasks for the high grades as a low grade student, the score for those was multiplied by 1.4. They abolished that because of me. The thing is: Since my name was on their website, and I was so young, my father was contacted by the TV one day (a Spanish TV show that runs on a top channel at top times, 8 pm). They wanted to do a show about mathematics, and they actually wrote to me to ask if I would be interested!

But as the math success grew, so did the bullying. It reached a whole new level at the new school. I was bullied by everyone everywhere. Even on the bus by kids who had never seen me before. They all bullied me, laughed at me, threw things at me and insulted me. I remember once when I was walking through the school hallway and there were three girls standing there. Two years older than me, we never exchanged a word before. They told me just like that: "All three of us think you are very ugly". Also, I was pushed be dudes 3 years older than me. Regularly. And that was nothing special. It was just normal, everybody laughed at me. Absolutely everybody. Always.

You wonder what happened to the TV appearance? Nothing. I would have had to shoot a video where I introduce myself, so that they could have shown it live in the program. And I didn't want to do that, because I was afraid. I was afraid that I would be bullied because of this video.

And so it went on: more success in math, and more bullying. More and more and more.

Until I met Justus. He was in my class and we got along well. Soon we were best friends. And I started to become more normal. I played Clash of Clans, I wasted my time. Our friendship didn't last forever, but around two years. The more normal I became, the less math I did and the less piano I played. But: I was also bullied less.

In eighth grade I reached a point where I had a few friends, was bullied only a little, but also did almost no math and played no piano at all. My parents didn't like that - but it's my life. The friendship with Justus broke up. Mainly because I treated him badly, insulted him from time to time and told him stories that were completely made up (no idea why I did that). I found a new best friend: Jan. I can spoiler: he still is now. With Jan I only did stupid things. Playing Fifa, talking shit and stuff like that. In the ninth grade we met Mefisto in an open-air swimming pool. He was a bad influence for both of us. We started drinking alcohol. We did things, but it had nothing to do with him, like roofing (going on the roofs of tall buildings and sitting on the edge of the roof, 100m up for example). We even did Trainsurfing (standing on the back of the train while driving). Jan did it more often than I did, I myself did it I think 3 or 4 times only. Roofing we did about 15-20 times. At that time nobody bullied me anymore. Besides, it happened occasionally that girls showed interest in me. Before, I was only called ugly. And that felt good. Mathematics and piano: given up, zero.

​

Dragon

The first time I got drunk was when I was 15 at Mefisto's birthday party. There were about 50 people there and I was very drunk. And then I was free for the first time in my life. I was babbling at everybody and just talking shit. But I was free. I didn't care what anyone thought, I did whatever I wanted, I even danced. And I loved that.

The next morning I had a huge hangover, and everyone from the party wondered why I was so quiet - I was so loud and open at the party. At that very moment, I decided: I must always, at all times, sober or not, be exactly as I was last night. I have to be sober exactly as if I were drunk.

I did that. I actually developed a concept. Every time anything, no matter how stupid it was, came into my head that cost me overcoming, I had to do it. Completely regardless of whether it made sense or not, I had to do it so I could master my overcoming. This led to me asking strangers stupid things, cracking stupid jokes, always opening the windows on every bus, and more. I fell into this mode and the concept took off. After a while, hardly anything cost me any effort. I was also free sober. But I fell in love with alcohol. I started drinking every weekend. Twice every weekend, twice crashing drunk. I made a lot of friends, or let's say colleagues, and I was always partying. There was nothing else that interested me. Just partying and being free. Nobody bullied me anymore. Absolutely nobody. I was 100% self-confident and finally free.

Then I got into senior year at school and the classes were thrown together. There was a class trip. I got along great with all the guys there. One night I was watching a soccer game with Ben and one of the players was crazily good. Ben kept saying, "Boy, what a BIEST!". But I figured the word was worn out and we needed a new one. So I thought about what could be said instead. What animal is a beast? So I came up with "dragon." I said, "Boy, that guy is a bad dragon!". Ben laughed and laughed. The next morning we both used the word. In the evening, all the boys used the word. We also said "dragonish." The class trip came to a bad end. I persuaded a few others to buy alcohol and drink it secretly. We got caught and I got a warning from the school administration. My parents got a letter.

After the class trip we established "dragon" in the whole school.

And now the coincidence that should change everything. Jan and I saw the Snapchat story of a girl: About 20 alcohol bottles. 10 vodkas, 10 other awesome stuff. Text: "Exaggerated?". I said, "Jo we have to do that too, it's brutally dragonish". So we went to the supermarket and bought the cheapest alcohol there was. We bought about 30 bottles. Just to take a photo. On the photo we even put bottles that were empty, but in such a way that you didn't recognize it. We posted the photo in our story with the text "Exaggerated?". Everyone asked us "JO, WHY ARE WE NOT INVITED?!". While in reality we were just sitting alone in the basement and we weren't even drinking. So I said, "Bro, what are we going to do about the alcohol? Let's have a fat party, invite everyone and give free alcohol!"

Said, done. We created a WhatsApp group and called it.... "Dragon." Around 15 people showed up to the party. Nothing crazy but pretty cool. I decided we needed to do this more often. So I put every single person I knew into the group and next Friday the next party would start. The next party 50 people showed up. I bought 10 bottles of vodka and about 15 bottles of hugo. Everybody brought 4€ and that's how it was financed.

The party was awesome and from now on it ran by itself. We had a party every Friday. People brought lots of new people every time, I got to know more and more people, the group grew, and the parties even got a name: People called them "Dragon Parties" and they called the group the "Dragon Group".

After a few weeks the group had 200 people and the parties had around 70-80 people each time. I had a lot of "friends". I became very well known in Funku-City. Parties of this size were rare in Funku-City, and we did it every single Friday. Funku-City is not a big city. I made a name for myself and I used every free second to party. People knew me.

A lot happened at every dragon party. Lots of stuff stolen, people had alcohol poisoning, fights, good partying, good dancing. There was even a rape once. I don't think I have to mention that I was drunk myself every time. For each party I spent over 100€ on alcohol. Most of the time I made a loss because many people didn't pay, but I didn't care.

I noticed that I was getting dumber. My concentration got worse and worse. For example, it was normal that in English class I always spoke up, but when I wanted to say what I wanted to say, I just forgot the English words. Then I would ask, "Can I just say it in Spanish?". And then I even forgot the Spanish words...

But I didn't care about any of that. At that point, every girl liked me. Honestly. No guy got more chicks than me.

The first one I had something with was Viktoria. It was an empty thing. We met and did nothing. Nothing and nothing. At some point she begged me to ask her if we wanted to be together. But I never did. I lost my verginity to her though - at least almost. We sat together on her bed and she said I was boring. I was free and confident, but very inexperienced with girls. I didn't know what she was getting at. She told me to make her some cocoa. I asked what I could get for it. She said whatever I wanted. We agreed on us having sex IF the cocoa was good... Of course she said the cocoa was good. I could have even given her slurry and it would have been "good cocoa". However, sex never happened. When we tried, I just couldn't get hard because I was too excited. The whole thing with Viktoria had ended at a dragon party. I got into a fight with a guy and a couple of our girls ended up flirting with him. I was pissed and ended the friendship with them. I was drunk and at that moment I thought to myself that I have to end the friendship with about 30 of my guys. Viktoria wanted attention and I told her not to be annoying, I had just lost 30 friends. Then it was over. But she had another guy she was keeping warm the whole time, so what the heck.

Then I had something with three chicks at the same time. I don't want to brag. But it's just a great feeling when you get every girl you want after you were only bullied for years and every contact with women was only that they find you ugly.

By the way, I started working out in 8th grade and I had gotten really muscular over time. No one in my grade was anywhere near as muscular as I was. It was great.

The whole thing went on and on. Thanks to the dragon parties, everyone in Funku-City knew me. I did nothing but party. During the vacations my mother hardly saw me. I was somewhere every day. If I was at home for a short time, then only to change my clothes, take a short shower and eat something. Then I left again. My mother was sad. One day I came home to change my clothes. I saw my mother crying. I asked, "Mom what's wrong?". She wouldn't tell me. My father eventually told me. She found a college notebook from a few years ago. The pad was from 5th and 6th grade, full of math. I tried university stuff there.

My mother cried a lot. Someone called at home and said her son should not to drink so much and bother people drunk. But I didn't care. I was happy. I was completely free. I was not only free, I was even known. Everybody in Funku-City knew me. Literally everyone. There were no better parties than mine. It was perfect.

Around that time I also smoked pot for the first time in my life. I was high as a kite. I never did other drugs, but I was very interested in them. I planned with some friends to have a party on December 23 and do coke all together. We never did it, but I was intrigued by the idea. That was going to be our Christmas party.

And here I am. From math and piano at the top level, so good that even TV wanted me, to stupid party person that regularly gets drunk at school and wants to do coke with his friends. On Christmas Eve. At 16. My mother had every reason to cry, and she did. She cried a lot.

Among all the girls I had something with, I chose Maria. In school she was one grade below me. How did we meet? She asked me if I wanted to go to a fair with her and I said yes. That day I had arranged with other friends to get drunk before school. We did that. At school I sobered up. After school we still had some Jägermeister left. I then iced it, so that I was drunk again. Then I went home and worked out. So I was sober again. Then I went to the fair and got drunk a third time that day. And this time I got really drunk. I threw up from alcohol for the first time. And that was from Maria's balcony down to the balcony underneath. I always had drama with all the girls. Also with Maria, but she was the only one who didn't leave. So I chose her.

We came together. I lost my virginity to her. First I got together with her "just like that", but after a short time I fell in love with her. I stopped partying so much and spent time with her. But one last dragon party I did. Together with Jan we celebrated my 16th and his 15th. We said no one has to pay anything and everyone can bring everyone. We underestimated it a little bit. 400 people came, there was an incredible amount of stealing, a lot of police came, Jan was attacked with pepper spray, a girl had alcohol poisoning and much more. There has never been such a big party in Funku-City. At that point, I reached legend status. It was perfect.

The first months with Maria were just heaven. But after a while the romance wore off and I didn't have so many friends anymore, because I had always canceled everyone because of Maria. Anyway, I had decided that I wanted to become a stock shareholder. But later I decided it was boring to invest in other people's companies. I'd rather do my own business. At that point I loved Maria so much that I thought, and told her, that we would get married. That I wanted to have children with her. And I was 100% convinced of it. I even told my parents.

For Maria, the my-own-company-stuff was too much back and forth. Besides, she didn't like the fact that I wasn't so popular anymore. But she loved me. She really loved me and I really loved her. It had become true love. Only thanks to her do I even know what love is.

​

My company

So I started my own company. It was supposed to be an internet commerce company. I sold goods in drop shipment cooperation with -at the best time- five partners via eBay. I also started doing mathematics again. At the same time my motivation for school dwindled - more and more.

I didn't think much of school. For me it was a waste of time. I let my teachers notice that. I didn't participate in class anymore, instead I did things for my company. I got very bad grades. I often got into verbal fights with teachers. I had no friends left except Jan. Because all the "friends" from before were not real friends. I lost all my muscles when my triceps tendon got inflamed. I had pain in my arms for 2 years, even when opening doors or drinking water. All the muscles were gone. I got aggression and regularly smashed the soap dispenser in our toilets. And then there were new ones, and I would smash or crush them again. This even went so far that at times you could only visit the men's toilets with a key you had to borrow beforehand with your name. One day I even started a fire in one of the toilets. The fire was inside the toilet. It was completely black and unusable afterwards. A few teachers suspected me, but I was never convicted.

The verbal arguments with the teachers went so far that I had several conversations with the principal and once my parents had to come too. But the principal liked me, so after the conversation everything was always fine. But my mother did not like all this. And Maria didn't either. Maria made fun of my company. She always said I would imagine it much too easy. But I had never said how I imagined it. I sold my first article when I was with her. I only made a few cents on it, but I was proud. When Maria heard how little profit margin the item had, she just laughed. That hurt me a lot. That was when I decided not to tell her about the company anymore. She even thought I had quit after a while.

My parents didn't believe in it either, they didn't make fun of it, but it was never something serious in their eyes. Everyone else I told about it didn't believe in it either. I can't blame them, especially Maria. She got to know me as a guy who makes the best parties, was very popular, was always drunk and only talks shit.

The only one who took it seriously was Jan.

​

The 10 thousand run

Maria turned the cold shoulder on me as a result, that's what she called it. She loved me, but she didn't like all these changes. We had been together for almost 2 years at this point. I continued to love her but little came back, so I too became colder and our relationship got worse and worse. At that time, I hardly ever went out with friends, so I spent all my time with my company. I worked day and night. I learned programming and achieved a lot. Business was going better and better. The better it went, the less we saw each other. Then we didn't see each other for 2 months. In those 2 months, I didn't meet with a friend once - not even with Jan. Instead, I was just working. I was also on WhatsApp and social media very little and at one point I even decided not to listen to music anymore. It was pure work, so I called it "work phase".

After the 2 months, I had great success:

• The company had made €10,000 revenue (not profit, actually I made losses)
• I participated in the most difficult math competition in the country and got to the second round
• I managed to get my driver's license (Maria had always made fun of that, too)
• And more.

Maria didn't know about all this, as said, she even thought I had given up the business. Then I decided: I haven't listened to music for two months now and I'm finally successful. I go jogging now and listen to my all-time favorite songs. And that moment... Where I started running and the music kicked in.... It was magical. This entire jogging was magical. The next day I picked up Maria with the car as a surprise that I have the driver's license. Then I told her about the successes and she was gobsmacked! We also had sex. That was the point at which I knew. This concept of a "work phase" is perfect. I was addicted to the concept.

It didn't save the relationship, though. It was damaged and that could not be saved. We rarely saw each other and she even cheated on me once. The cheating didn't change anything though, but it accelerated the break up. It took a few months, but we realized we weren't right for each other. I'm way too crazy and loopy, she's sweet and normal. Then it was over. Over with the girl I thought I was going to marry.

​

Hernandez

But before it was over, I worked a lot for my company. While we never saw each other I was busy. I was listening to music again and the work phase was over, but I had tasted blood. I decided it was too much work to manually post the items on eBay. So I wrote a program that did it by itself. All by itself. It extracted all items from my cooperation partner's website, extracted all info, started an eBay search to judge if the product had potential, calculated a price itself, wrote the item into my database and uploaded it to eBay. It worked perfectly.

Within two weeks, I expanded from one cooperation partner to 5 partners and from 30 eBay items to 2000 items.

And it worked! I was making so much money all of a sudden, it was like a shock. In the first month I made over 30.000 € revenue. The profit margin was 10%, that means over 3000 € profit. Net profit. I didn't pay taxes and I wasn't insured, so that was cash profit. That was more than my teachers earned after taxes, insurance, etc!

I EARNED MORE THAN MY TEACHERS!

It took me time, blood, sweat and tears, but it felt like I was finally successful. I was happy. Maria and I were still in touch, so of course I told her about it right away. And as if by magic, suddenly everyone took my business seriously. Now that there was money, no one was laughing. Everyone took it seriously. I proved them all wrong. It was a great feeling.

So I decided it was time to go celebrate. I didn't drink alcohol at that point. Actually, the time where I didn't drink a single drop of alcohol lasted exactly 3 years. So Jan and I went to Funku-City. I though had been away for two years, so there were some new people I had never seen before, but most of the people all knew me. So we immediately found a new group to party with from then on. There was a girl there that I liked. And she liked me. Chiara and I got along very well, she invited me to her house parties. We had something.

Chiara was pretty, but not particularly. She was hot too, but not particularly. She had this one thing. She understood me. She never judged me. With Maria I always had to watch what I said, because she judged me. When I told stories where I screwed up, she always looked at me a little differently after it. With Chiara it was not like that at all. She never judged me and most of the time she even understood me. No girl has ever understood me. Because I'm much too crazy. But she did. I was addicted to her.

What did my daily routine look like? I was partying, I was with Chiara and then I drove home in the car - I drive like a coke junkie, way too fast so the tires squealed in the curves, and without any consideration, but I just love driving too much. At home, I took care of the business. Then I went back to partying and so on. On a continuous loop. I even told Chiara my life story.

I had friends again, I was partying, I had a girl who understands me, I earned more than my teachers. While I was still UNDERAGE, I was 17. I finally achieved my dream, and I think mom was even a little proud. It was just perfect. I was on cloud nine, I couldn't have been better. NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. I was in heaven, redeemed by Jesus Christ. IT WAS PERFECT.

So Jan and I decided we had to celebrate our birthday. And celebrate it big. Our plan was to make another dragon party and it must be bigger than the last one with 300-400 people. Our goal was 500 people.

And this is where the tables turned. With my first collaboration partner, I never had this problem - not once. But it did happen that items were not available. And that happened a lot, especially with the last cooperation partner. But I had not brought that into the program.

So while I was partying and on cloud 7, several thousand euros in sales came in every day. Without end articles sold: There were several thousand. But many of them I couldn't deliver. So I had to cancel the order. I extended the program to close this gap. I did nothing else and it cost me just two days. But it was too late. There were so many orders given that I couldn't process that the PayPal and eBay algorithms sounded alarm. I would have straightened everything out, the program was already adjusted. But PayPal blocked my account. The money was frozen for half a year. There were several thousand euros on the PayPal account. Almost all the money was there. But I couldn't access it. And this is where things started to get very very problematic.

Ebay gave the account a bad rating. That means, among other things, higher fees and through them you are no longer competitive. In addition, I had bills from cooperation partners that I could not pay. I was forced to temporarily take out all items and put business on hold. After a lot of back and forth there remained one invoice that I could not pay. It was only 200 €, but I just could not pay it. There was no way I was going to ask my parents for money. They would have given it to me right away, but I didn't want to. I didn't want to ask Jan either, I didn't want to ask anyone. Because nobody believed in it - I don't want to ask for money now.

So I stole bikes and sold them. It's not that easy. You first have to find one that sells, which takes time, then crack it, and then find a buyer, which takes even longer. I stole about 15 bikes in total. The best one I sold for 50 €, the worst one for 50 cents. Yes, 50 cents.

But at least I still had Chiara. Didn't I? We met one day and she just broke up with me. Out of nowhere. There were no signs, and she didn't even give a reason. She just broke up with me. I cried. I cried a lot.

I was on cloud nine and had lost everything within a few weeks. The company went bankrupt, Chiara was gone, and I was stealing bikes. All day long.

What happened to the big birthday party? I had told people we were buying €2,500 worth of alcohol for everyone. And a few other "marketing moves". In short, it escalated to such an extent that I became afraid of legal consequences. I had never thought of that before, but it was suddenly so big that I had to do something. So I created a fictional person called "Hernandez." Then we made a big announcement that Jan and I had to cancel the party for personal reasons, but our good friend Hernandez agreed to continue the party. So from now on it was his birthday party. And it escalated.

2000 people came. 2000! There was never anything close to that in Funku-City. Not even in the towns next to it. People came from great distances for this party. In the schools they talked about nothing else but the party. And of course the police came. They wanted to break up the party. With a single patrol car at 11 pm. Of course, it didn't work. They were pelted with stones and bottles. So they called for more police... And they came. After an hour, there were 20-30 police BUSES. Not cars, BUSES. There were 80-100 policemen who cleared the party around 1 am. Some people were arrested. But not me. I went home calm as a cucumber.

Only two days later. I was sitting in Spanish class at school. The vice-principal knocked the door and said I should please come out, it was important. I went out, and... The criminal police was there. They asked some stupid questions, nothing special. They also wrote down every single number from the dragon group. Then he asked me, "Who is Hernandez?". I refused to answer... But it worked. HAHAHA! Hernandez worked. I have never heard from the police since. But I will tell you this. The morning after the party, there was press. LOTS of press. Around 30 online newspaper articles. Even from press from a major city (population 2 million) nearby. The press referred to it as the „horror-night Funku-City“. We were on the radio. Even on TV it was aired once. The damage caused by the party was 100,000 €, mainly due to police intervention. But as I said... I never heard from the cops again after that.

My mother cried tears.

Stealing bicycles became too time-consuming for me. I had done nothing else every day and I just try to scrape together 200 €. So I thought about something else. In Spain there is a law that if a business competitor breaks a law, you can point it out to him, he has to refrain from doing it, and you can make him pay the costs incurred (typically lawyer fees).

So I wrote a computer program that scanned eBay seller pages by itself, searched for a very meticulous little mistake, and if it found it, it by itself sent such a warning to the seller's email. I demanded there 100 €. This is little, usually it costs around 800 €. I hoped for high willingness to pay.

Such a warning is not a thing to take lightly. It is a big deal. My program sent out 650 warning letters. Within one hour.

I made 2000 € from it. But that was not a good idea, that was a very stupid idea. Many sellers contacted lawyers who checked the warning. End of the story: A single law firm charged me 80.000€. Other law firms also something, in total it was almost 100,000€ debt I now had. And there was also press. Mainly lawyers who wrote about this "warning wave" on their websites. They called it a warning wave.

I had managed to accumulate 200,000€ of debt within a week. Wow. I was no longer cloud nine, I was devastated.

I'm lucky that I never had to pay the €200,000. But still, I had lost everything. In such a short time. Chiara was never a significant girl in my life. Our relationship was far too short for that. But the fact that she broke up with me from one second to the next, even without a reason, hurt me enormously. I was so sad that I often imagined her standing in front of me. And I would take her hand and we would just talk. I even wrote and sang a love song about her. I never published it or sent it around, of course, but I listened to it myself. All day long. It helped. Also, when I went to sleep, I imagined a girl lying next to me that I loved. Who loves me. Who I can cuddle up close with and be there for.

I can anticipate: Since Maria, I have been longing for real love. Over the next few years, almost every time I went to sleep, I imagined a girl lying next to me.

As fate would have it, all that was not enough. The bad luck continued. I was in a car accident. And I got in trouble at school for cheating in the math contest I mentioned. And that got exposed. I had a talk with the school administration. They threatened to kick me out of school. I lied to them all. That also came out at the end of the conversation. The principal was crying. He was the one who had always had my back in the past. He liked me and always stood up for me. From that moment on, he hated me. Pure hatred. I saw the contempt and anger in his eyes. He was on fire.

But I didn't care. I had lost my company, my dream. That was all I cared about. So I initiated a second work phase to straighten it all out. I uninstalled all social media (even WhatsApp) and completely isolated myself from the outside world. No social contact at all. And listening to music was sectarian forbidden. If my parents ever turned on the radio, I immediately covered my ears, turned it off, and got really mad. If the cell phone of my father rang, exactly the same. ZERO music means zero music. Besides, it was forbidden to feel happiness. I was not allowed to be happy, I was not allowed to laugh and I was not allowed to smile.

Unfortunately, the truth is: the work phase did help, but not much. I could not save the company. It went bankrupt. However, I achieved a few other successes, but they were not significant. But the redemption, the jogging with music at the end of the work phase... That was another magical moment.

And that's exactly how the year ended.

​

---

I had to split this post up because it's too long for reddit. This is part 1/2. You can find part 2 here.

It's 4:20AM where I live currently, and I felt like writing this on my phone using a throwaway account. I want to tell a "brief" story of my life, for no specific reason.

Note: this story won't include very personal details and facts because this is very traceable. (If you know who I am and made the effort to find this, you can read this. I don't mind.)

Also note that this is a pretty long read, that I'm not very proud of. This is pretty poorly written heh

Childhood:

My name is, let's say, Rue. =)

I was born in the early 2000, in the capital of Romania, Bucharest. I lived in an apartment that is in a decent, pretty safe for the most part neighborhood, with my parents, sister, aunt, cousin and my only grandma till we had to move out due to my dad's problems.

I was a happy, healthy kid. I was eager to learn and make new friends, although I was kind of a social outcast from the very beginning due to me insisting on leaving my hair long my whole life. It was, and still is something my gut tells me to do. My view on it was; it doesn't matter that I get mocked for it as long as I keep confident and believe in myself no matter what. Funny thing is many of my classmates in secondary school who mocked me for it let their hair grow as well after I left the country.

I spent most of my life hanging out at the park near my house with my sister and best friend I ever had. We knew each other since birth, due to our moms getting to know each other and becoming friends while they were both pregnant. She's still my friend to date and I can't wait to see her again.

I never knew about my parent's problems for the most part. My mom did a great job, giving me all the care in the world and being the best in general. (thanks mom <3) My dad was cool too. His problems were directly related to his past. His past was not the nicest, to say in the nicest way possible.

Everything began to change when I began primary school and my parents had to move and change the way they made their money. This was also the time they started seriously considering leaving the country for good, having been disappointed in Romania in general. They tried making it. My mom and dad deserve so much more... The country did my parents and me dirty. But especially my parents.

Want to know? Just look at Romania's problems. It's simply a sinking ship. I'm sorry, but I will forever advice my friends and family to leave ASAP. They aren't going make it if the money is coming from business inside the country, and if so, they probably could have multiplied their potential in other western countries.

Basically I got bullied and my teacher tried to hide it. She didn't succeed because I started having shifts in my behavior at home. The guy stayed in school afterwards after many efforts made by my mom, but we were kind of separated from then on.

School actually decreased my abilities over time. I was way ahead when I started from what I've heard. My mom always helped me with my homework though. I was lazy from the beginning and requesting help even though I didn't really need it.

Since my parents started working together in a different field and my dad lost his job due to a crisis, they were absent for a couple hours a day. At a pretty young age me and my sister would already be responsible enough to be left home alone. Also shortly before leaving my pet chinchilla died due to an infection that went unnoticed and/or old age :(

At around that time I started what now my doctors believe is an autoimmune disease, in the form of arthritis. At the time it was believed to be bursitis. I woke up in the worst pain I ever went through to this day, and went straight to the ER. I did numerous MRI scans (at a private hospital, of course) but no conclusions were made. They told my parents the problem needed to be investigated during the following months but faith would have it, for the following years we hadn't had that possiblity. Only up until recently paperwork was done. COVID didn't help.

"Teenage" years:

My parents wanted to buy a camper so we could travel around the coast of Europe and decide what place would be best for us to live in. The field of work of my parents didn't require knowing a certain language or prior experience. They didn't depend on anyone but themselves. May I remind you both of my grandparents died before I was born and one of my grandmother passed away shortly after, and my dad didn't and doesn't have a very good relationship with his mother. (Something I honestly understand knowing their past.)

Well, my parents didn't find no camper due to the tight budget and lots of scams. So many damn scams. Time was running out and so the money was slowly gone over the remaining months as there were always unexpected expenses over expenses. We ended up buying a trusty 2000' Audi A6 with a huge ceiling chest. And traveled half the Europe with that and no money lol

Yeah, so during my pre-puberty years me and my family were homeless, with little to no help and no guarantee we could make it. Oh yes and we also had a golden retriever in the trunk... =) Fuck me. I'll never forget. There were some times we were properly fucked and day to day life was pretty shit. But we ended up seeing new countries and stumbling upon opportunities, something you rarely do in Romania. (Unless you work remotely, something most of the people I know and live comfortably do).

My parents tried making it in the country's culture. No success. Just a painful shit show that lasted through my dad's golden years. He doesn't even talk badly about it but I can picture it as a whole. I admire him for seeing the positive and funny experiences.

We then arrived to the place I live in now. We kind of knew from the start this would be the place to settle in. Next was paperwork that lasted years, and various homes with various asshole landowners. (Fuck you Marisa and Javier or whatever the fuck your name was. Actually Marisa, even though you were a crazy cheapskate and overprotective mother, we would've been homeless without you. But you Javier, fuck you for not wanting to give my parents the "warranty" deposit my parents gave you. I don't remember the word but basically you pay something upfront and you're supposed to receive it when you leave. Feel free to correct me in the replies.)

Our first "home" in Spain was an unused apartment that some young and middled aged males and females squatted in and lived in for a little. Stealing electricity and water while doing so, of course. They were all crazy in some way apart from a really nice Italian dude named Toni. He's doing good now repairing and maintaining bikes. Ruth was a crazy woman with a dog that met my parents and was touched by their work, and told them they had a free room. (my parents were busking.) We really needed a place to sleep in rather than in the car as almost 3 months had passed since we started to do so and winter was coming. So there was that. I will never forget you Ruth. You and your crazy blind dog, thank you. You are a good person. The people in that apartment were good people at heart who had done the best they could with the cards they've been dealt with. :)

Next home was a one room apartment with all the necessary things. We were fine, it was luxurious at the time. It was 300€ a week though, so not ideal. At the time you could get a 4 bedroom house with a pool and everything. That or even better lol! Same owner than offered my parents a nice but pretty small house away from the center that was much cheaper but the rent was going to double in price during summer. Rent should have increased a third or so but the guy got greedy.

Then there was the next house. Small and horrible, some drug dealers used to live in. Only option at the time. Thank god, we could've been homeless because of the landowner increasing the price because why not. He had the right after awhile, and he did it with no remorse. It was funny because late at night, (3:00am type of shit) addicts would come and ask for their dose of drugs (Marijuana in particular). My dad would tell them "We are a family! Dealers moved out recently." But they would get desperate and even offer to pay extra. LOL This was the time my mental health got absolutely fucked. Wrecked. To say it as briefly as possible, I missed about one year of school in total and had 2 weeks of education in a new country in primary school before I was passed straight to highschool, or secondary school, (we're talking about an European country, different school system) because the teacher and director thought I was bright enough. I was apparently bright enough so that even after missing one year of school in my country and switching countries and languages, being in a country where people go to university one year sooner than in Romania and going from primary school to secondary school, (huge change) I could make it and get good grades. Well, that was the case during the first trimester. I had above average grades and got along with the teachers. I was a popular kid actually. Very popular haha :') I remember I was surrounded by girls during recess. At the time I also had a crush. It may have been mutual but either way I was OBSESSED. She showed me around during (the 2 weeks of) primary school and knew English very well compared to her classmates. Anyway the grades were good until the school and the teachers, forgot I existed. Yeah. I didn't get the dates of exams because in classic (insert name of my school) fashion, instead of writing it on the board or making it clear they would say it like it was nothing at the end of the class while there was noise. My brain didn't understand shit during all that chatter, as I knew very little Spanish. Still, people were actually properly blown away I had learned to speak pretty well in 2 weeks. I went from a perfect grade student in Romania, to average and then absolutely failing every class. Shit went down faster than the price of $DOGE during the SNL with Elon Musk. My crush also lost interest in me. I went into a deep depression. I did dumb things. I wanted to end it, like seriously end it. I was 12 or a bit older at the time I believe. And it still is the worst I've felt ever (I'm currently 16). They sent me to the school counselor who just asked me if I had trouble at home. Nothing with my parents in particular. They couldn't help me though. Me and my sister microwaved pizza and were alone during half the time. Paperwork was slow. And I was slowly losing it. Nobody really gave a shit at school. I went from a really popular guy to an absolute outcast of a kid in absolutely no time. I also had mood swings due to going through my worst phase of teenage years. I had nothing anymore. Left my piano lessons, family and friends in Romania and I had failed my classes after doing so well. The absolute trash neighborhood that was 50km or 31ish miles away from my school didn't help.

Next house guys =) I somehow ended up alive and we moved to a big house in which I still live. My depression never truly ended and my grades went from failing to barely passing every single year that followed. Every year I almost didn't get promoted to the next year. This year I didn't get promoted. And I couldn't be happier. Fuck school, fuck you! My friend can legally get a year off before uni so he'll do that and we'll go at the same time. Now, it's about time to talk about adulthood. A little to early, maybe. But I see myself as an adult already with all of the responsibilities. Stop saying we're still kids. We're not. I'm going to make sure I live my best life from now on, as a fully grown man who's always learning and improving. I want to take responsibility full on from now on. It's about damn time.

Adulthood:

I've always been interested in many things but I want to be known as a good independent artist. That's my main goal. My second is entrepreneurship. I will have companies and projects during my life, I know it. Because that's what I always wanted. To make a difference that is. I never, in my life, saw myself living a simple life and working for someone. I understand people that do it though. But I need to risk it all to live it all. I'm also very interested in science. I'm interested in both art and science. My family has a correlation between the two. I know one thing about myself. And that is the fact that I'm a creator. I just like working on things and projects. My own projects. I like being a leader.

But I'm in a battle with myself. Whatever disease I might have, in the last couple of months and during the school year my pains have gotten worse. And this summer I feel like it has come to an emergency situation. Both my legs hurt, are inflamed, along with my lower and higher back, one foot and a stiff neck. Not to mention the fatigue. I feel like a lost cause due to the fact I know how ambitious and driven I can be, (it's pretty scary actually =) ) but I also feel like I have no control over my own life. I started to feel like ending it all. It crosses my mind even though it's not an option. I wish I could though.

I'm incredibly lucky to have amazing people around me. And honestly, if it weren't for them and my amazing parents I would definitely be dead right now. I was close. I'm sorry but it's the truth. And right now I need it. I love you all, I wish I could list your names.

That's pretty much all. I'll soon get a diagnosis and start treatment. I'll also travel and meet my friends and grandma for the first time in 5ish years. Whoever read this, thank you. From the bottom of my heart. This was a brief history of my life written late at night half asleep on my phone. I'm sorry for the sloppy writing, I'll correct typos later.

-Rue

I originally posted about Year 1 here:

In that post, I explained my plans to try this all over again for another year and compare the data between my first year of operating an online ecommerce business to the second year.

A few disclaimers: I am NOT positioning myself as an “expert” businessperson, one who makes a ton of money, who has more success than he knows what to do with. On the contrary, [SPOILER WARNING] my results for 2021 are very…. disappointing. I’m prepared for any comments roasting me for being sh*t at running a business, because my end of the year results are nothing to write home about. However, the purpose of this post is to explain my story and give you a first-hand account of how hard it really is to run a small-business, even from your home. This should serve as a very sobering story for you, especially those who are thinking of selling online – and at the very least, I hope you will enjoy the read. It is a long one! One with a dash of hope at the end, so stick around!

One final disclaimer that I must state: the numbers I provide in this post are UNFINALIZED ESTIMATES only. I work with my CPA who decides on the final numbers to report and he puts together my final tax return. These numbers are from my personal spreadsheets but are not necessarily the final taxable amounts. (So, if the IRS or state government is reading this post...once again, these are ESTIMATES ONLY!)

Let’s begin with the final results of 2021:

I sold on the following platforms: eBay, Amazon FBA, and miscellaneous platforms (such as StockX, Etsy, and Mercari.) My gross sales for 2021 was $72,170.57 (down from $77,000 and change in 2020.) That is only a 6.5% decline in sales, which isn’t too bad at first glance. My net income, however, dropped drastically this year: it is about $8,800 (down from $12,000-$13,000 a year ago.) My net income represented only 12.2% of my gross sales (down from 16% of gross sales a year ago.) That means that on average, for every $100 I sold online, I only made a measly $12.20 profit. Are you seeing how tough of a business this can truly be? People think they will “get rich” off an online website or buying and reselling products but if you sit down and record all revenues and compare them to expenses, you may find that you barely have anything left over. (More on this later.)

Another major disappointment, contributing to the lower profit margins in 2021, was an increase in overall operating expenses (selling fees, shipping fees, and the cost of purchasing inventory, to name a few.) I ended up spending a total of over $60,000 on operating expenses in 2021 (up from $56,000 in 2020.) This represents roughly a 7% increase in expenses over the year.

Overall, with a decline in sales and a rise in operating expenses, it doesn’t take an accountant to conclude that this caused profits to decline in 2021. My hope for telling these numbers truthfully is to provide a no-nonsense, non-sugar coated, real-life example of a solo online reseller working full-time in this field. That is NOT to say that other solo resellers haven’t done better: I’m sure there are other resellers out there who made six-figures in profits and are reading in disbelief with my lack of success. That’s okay. We all have various degrees of success, knowledge, location-specific resources, life situations, etc. that contribute to our overall results for the year. In other words, this is just MY personal experience. I’m sure there are other people who did really well in 2021 and also others that may have gone out of business. It happens.

Here is more about the nature of my online reselling business:

I continued a “sell everything” model, meaning that I did not focus on a specific niche or category, but instead chose to resell anything that would produce at least a 10-15% profit margin or more. I sold ALL types of things, such as pre-owned clothing, toys, video games, books, collectibles, etc., even some brand-new items from wholesale distributors (who, mind you, can only make you between 10-30% profit margins – that is typical of the wholesale model.)

I sourced from other retail stores and wholesale distributors and had much less success with thrift stores and garage sales this year. That is because in my location, all but 1 of my goodwills shut down, thrift store prices doubled or tripled, and garage sales became sparce and unreliable – probably due to ongoing covid concerns. I established a total of 4 wholesale distributor partnerships, up from just 1 in 2020. All of my wholesale partners are local businesses and it’s a source of pride partnering with other businesses in my community to bring products to the market.

I live in Hawaii so shipping is a huge disadvantage and challenge. As a result, I had to focus on smaller or compact items fitting in flat rate shipping boxes to increase profit margins. Also, this challenge with shipping costs has pushed me closer to relying more on fulfillment services by Amazon. Rather than shipping individual items from my home directly to the customer, such as through eBay, I’ve saved a little bit of money on shipping by sending bulk shipping lots directly to the Amazon warehouse where it is then shipped by Amazon to customers worldwide. (This is called the Amazon FBA model.)

I’ve switched up where I heavily feature my products based on changing conditions in the resell market. Here is a breakdown of my sales volume by platform (net sales per platform as a percentage of total net sales):

38% eBay (down from 70% in 2020), 37% Local & Miscellaneous Sales (such as StockX & Etsy) (up from 4% in 2020), 20% Amazon FBA (up from 8% in 2020), 5% Mercari (down from 18% in 2020)

eBay’s reign of supremacy has been challenged significantly by other platforms competing for my business: while in 2020, I sold almost everything on eBay (used to be 70% of all net sales), today, I evenly split my inventory between websites such as eBay, StockX, and Etsy. In other words, eBay has a lot stronger competition these days. A lot of this has to do with eBay’s own ridiculous and self-crippling policies and decisions. Some of these include the lack of seller protection, delayed or non-paying customers, website and app glitches, and the lack of modernization, to name a few.

In Quarter 1 (Q1) of 2021, I as a seller was faced with several eBay scams that could have gone horribly wrong. I had a total of 3 different customers who each stole between $300-$2000 worth of merchandise via various fraud activities: the first tried to perform a return scam by initiating a return and then sending it to a different address in my town. A second scam involved starting an item not received case for an item that was taking extra-long to arrive, getting the refund while the item was still marked “moving in transit” (which eBay stupidly approved), and then getting both the refund and the item delivered to him. The third scam involved a customer who paid for a product, received AND signed for it, and then initiating a “I didn’t approve this transaction” refund request – which eBay moronically APPROVED despite having SIGNED TRACKING for the package. (This absolutely happened to me, not joking, and I was dumbfounded each time it did happen.)

Luckily, all 3 scams were resolved in my favor due to various reasons – but they did take over 1-2 months to resolve (meanwhile, my funds were temporarily in the negative for over a month…dear god.)

For the first scam, I was able to get my money returned by eBay because I proved that the return was not delivered to my return address and I did not receive any returned merchandise. It took hours on the phone with an eBay rep who had to manually issue me a refund. The second scam was (luckily) resolved due to a “partially” botched package intercept request with USPS. So, when I found out the buyer was starting a refund request while the package was still on the way, I immediately paid the fee to USPS to initiate a package intercept request (to have the package sent back to me.) USPS is basically just as screwed up as eBay apparently because they immediately sent me an email saying the request failed. I was shocked and resigned that I just lost about 2 grand. It was devastating. 2 weeks later, I actually received the package in the mail marked “return to sender.” So apparently, even though I was notified by USPS that the request failed, it somehow was successful? I have no idea. That’s online reselling for you: sometimes you get very stressed for things outside your control over some substantial amounts of money.

The third scam was resolved by eBay after nearly 2 months. You would think that a package signed by the customer would be easy to prove your case to eBay, right? I thought it would be a slam dunk. Yet, when I called eBay, I kept getting “robot reps” who read from a script and frankly didn’t appear to be critically thinking about my issue at all. I was flabbergasted at how hard it was to prove the buyer was scamming considering he not only signed for the package before issuing the “I didn’t approve this transaction” scam, but he ALSO fled eBay – deleting his account. How suspect is that?? I finally had to file a police report, an IC3 internet crime report, and a BBB complaint to force eBay’s hand. They had a rep manually refund me once again. Meanwhile, I assume the scammer got to keep the stolen merchandise.

I also did contact several small claims courts for assistance. However, as I live in Hawaii and the scammers lived in places such as Brooklyn, New York, and Brookpark, Ohio, in case you didn’t know, the plaintiff has to meet the accused defendant in the defendant’s home state. In other words, I’d have to buy a round-trip plane ticket to these states FROM HAWAII to reclaim my $800 or so from the scammers. Not economically feasible. I also did look into “virtual court” sessions due to covid changes made by various cities. For the cities I mentioned above, they did not offer any virtual court: just in-person only. For the Brooklyn scammer, I got unlucky, because if he did live a short while away in Manhattan, they do offer virtual court and I could probably get a summons for him to appear. Instead, with no other recourse, I had to pressure eBay to fix the issue themselves.

Before I go too deep into this rabbit hole, I want to say that I am not trying to scare anyone from trying reselling for themselves. I don’t mean to put eBay on blast. Yes, I was traumatized a little by these events and yes, they have changed my perspective and pushed me towards selling more on various platforms instead of just relying on one main platform. I’m trying to explain that reselling is a FUN and inspiring business for those who like to collect, deal with a ton of cool stuff, and for shoppers trying to turn their hobby into a profitable venture. You can absolutely give it a try in 2022! Just be aware that if you don’t protect yourself, or put too much money into one platform or one product, like any other business, losses can amount to significant amounts and there is always a risk of doing business – anywhere really. At least I don’t own a brick-and-mortar store where I can be exposed to muggings, vandalism, and covid to name a few. Again, keeping it real and truthful here.

Overall for 2021, I sold a total of 1060 unique items with an average selling price of $68, with an average profit per item of $8.80. Sure, there were some items with a profit margin worth hundreds of dollars, while others broke even and others lost some money. This is again an average. Most weeks I would work on this business 5-6 times a week, but sporadically throughout the day: in the morning, I might want to organize and prepare packages for shipment in the afternoon, and get some products listed. In the afternoon, I might want to get some inventory shipped and pick up some new inventory, etc. There was no “set schedule” for working on this business, but such is the nature of any gig or freelance work, really. If you sell and hustle, you make dollars per item. If you get distracted and lose focus, you can go days with $0 income. Despite having nearly 500 active listings (available unique products for sale) across all platforms, I sold only about 3 items per day on average, and some weeks I’d only have a couple days of sales, others I’d have 20 sales in one day. It really varies and if you want to try reselling, you should definitely expect this volatility and unpredictability as it is completely normal.

Overall, online reselling a very ENJOYABLE gig, one that I am very PASSIONATE about. I love watching YouTube videos on reselling and reading about it through my Instagram feed. It appeals to toy enthusiasts, collectors, but also those who prefer solo work and might be socially awkward. (I am personally a big introvert and online reselling has been a wonderful break from the immense stress of customer-facing jobs and in-person retail jobs I’ve had in the recent past.)

So, what are my plans moving forward? What is my hope for 2022? Well, as you can see, $8800 in profit is not enough to live by any means. It’s nice that I have a net positive return for my business (it’s not like I went under or accrued huge debt), but it’s nothing to really be impressed at.

In early 2020, I began working towards my Masters in Business Administration degree. In summer of this year, I will be graduating with my MBA! Also, at the start of this year, I opened a TD Ameritrade stock trading account and dabbled in the world of swing trading. While I am not at all an expert in that subject either, I’m happy to say that I made a total of $6000 in short-term capital gains for the year! My goal for 2022 is to graduate, then keep my eyes open for a part-time remote / flexible position. Doesn’t necessarily have to be business-related as I am flexible and looking more for WORK THAT MATTERS TO ME rather than the highest pay available. I believe that with my continued online reselling side-business, a part-time job, and some investments in the stock market, along with a frugal lifestyle based on saving money, I won’t have any issues moving into the future. I am quite hopeful 

WORK THAT MATTERS. That’s my mantra. I got into reselling not because I wanted to become a millionaire (I was sure that would never happen and it didn’t, obviously.) I focused on reselling because it was a passion project of mine, one worth working on almost every day throughout the year. I enjoy the subject and I encourage all of us to follow our passion projects moving into 2022 and beyond.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

tl;dr I have been working as a solo online reseller for the past 2 years. Overall, I only made about $21,000 during the lifetime of the business, but it’s been a passion project of mine and I have no intention of quitting. Moving in 2022, I plan on adding additional income sources to my life, which may include further stock investments and a part-time remote job. Things are looking up!

(I just want to have a place where my life is recorded...instead of being forgotten.)

Before I was actually born, both of my parents had landed themselves in prison. This happened because my father had been storing files of adult content featuring, well...children. Though, my mother was bailed out by my grandmother who not only took her in, but also became my guardian when I was born. And while under her care, I met my mom, who was a former devout satanist, and then current witch. She allowed me to play with her various spiritual items: Ouija board, a sacrificial dagger, a glass chalice (When I held it made me feel oddly giddy and tingly???) and tarot cards. From the title, I assume one could guess the only card I remember pulling.

I lived with them until I was 9, to which my grandmother had a heart attack and died. I was taken away from my mother and home, and quickly placed into the care of my aunt and uncle. With them, things started out fine, however as time passed, they grew more and more abusive. Each day I would get a beating, and every morning I dreaded being alive. At one point, I remember opting to just stay in bed for as long as possible in hopes of just...never waking up to my reality. Yet, eventually I'd get dragged out and the cycle would continue until I reached freshman year of high school. There, I reported them to child services and was placed within a new home at 14.

I kept my distance from them for many years. I couldn't bear to just take a new family after what I experience in the last, so I just isolated myself. Admittedly, this choice is probably why I'm in my current state, however that can no longer be changed. I stayed with this family, never leaving my room for years. Once, I got to my junior year of high school, I attempted a driving academy. However, my lack of experience driving resulted in a failure. Nobody was actually teaching me to drive. I footed the internet bill at this house in my senior year (Or at least tried) and nearly failed high school from my lack of studying. (I had 2 part time jobs)

After my graduation, I started dating a girl I had met at work. We've been dating for 7 months now, and she's stayed with me even through a lot of BS (a hurricane impacting our lives, she got into a car accident, a month apart from covid infections, fighting and disputes at my house, and now me losing my home.) Honestly, I'm not sure what's ahead. I'm only typing all of this because I'm scared. I'm seriously scared. I live in the middle of nowhere, can't drive, homeless, and I have no family. I'll try and update this post for myself to see what all has happened....but as of now I'm just scared.

I’m (26 F) Girl who was born with Cerebral Palsy. About 4 years ago I started to go rehabilitation camp about 3-4 in year and it was worth it. I went back to crutches, I also started to walk without them. In last camp that I came back today I started to stand without crutches about minute and walk with holding furniture things like chairs, or bed I was scared to death about it before. Anyway, we are not in USA. Also the camps is about 700 km form my home. Also is that kind of camp where you have to go with your own caretaker, Now mine is my mom ( F53) She always no happy about my progress, she said it’s not enough, other kids or adults with the same disability doing better, She siad I walk slowly or have spastic to make her mad. She also said how old already she is, that she should take care about my niece (F4) than about me, that I’m antisocial, she always said that in front of my brothers (M34,M19) I never been close with any of them. They used to be close with each other in the past, but not now. Older bro only come to us when want my mom take care of my niece ( about 3-4 times in week). He in past also gave my drive to my camp and back home, but he became fed up with it when he made his own family, Many times he said that for that amount for money my mom could go to holidays instead or therapy ( he never payed for my therapy) in my town should be enough for me, so he was happy when our younger bro made his driver license, anyway older bro still borrowed his car , because my mom car is not suited for long trips, and she needs driver because she afraid of driving in other places than our small town. In front of my bros she said that camps are somewhat tried for her, but on camps she has her friends whop she talks all days, and my therapist between each other pick me from therapies. Also I’m friend with two physiotherapist from there (M34,F26) They are couple in real life, three of us have same hobbies and taste in music. When I’m in camp they often gives me gifts ( they gave me amazing for my late bday few days ago) they accept my weird, too sensitive personality, we talk about everything, they often invite me to their house, or two days ago they took my to pizza and that was surprise. My m,om from one had accept them she said that they are the best therapists there, and allows me visit them, but when I’m coming back from there she always said “Oh, did you also walk that back in front in them?” or “their presents for you are too big”, “They want you to me even fatter than you are?” (I’m on diet and many people said I made progress, but my mom said that it is not true) when she brought a full of Christmas theme things. She also said that I should already made more friends, especially disabled folks that she believe that are doing their best (I’m kind of antisocial)

My mom was angry few day ago because my younger bro was late for us, I was more spastic because my negative emotions, so she blame that I can doing only worse. When bro arrived he made my mom bad mood worse, because my older bro doesn't want to borrow his car anymore because he believe we made it dirty with food that we eat there and our shoes, but he still want to borrow that car to young bro for long trips that he sometimes made for older bro.

My mom said that we won’t come anymore to that camp, even when on camp she promised me we are going in next month! My younger bro agreed with her, that I should do something for my mom in once and she bored to death with that place, and I should look for somewhere near, because even my older bro is fed up with my camps because the won’t give his car anymore, and that I can make friends anywhere, it will be hurt that I won’t see my friends, but it will be fine. I was hurt because that that and I started message my friends that I might won’t see them anymore.

Few hours ago my mom agreed she likes that place because it’s the best therapy that I ever had, but she is just angry that older bro won’t let us using her car even if she help with care of his daughter so often and she even buys them things sometimes, even if they are much richer than us. She also angry that he calls only when he wants something even if they live close. I don’t know what to think anymore.

Few weeks ago I decided that I want to apply for caretaker from my government for the new year. That girl could take me weather I want or need, maybe even be my caretaker in camps if she agrees My mom believes she could her her with housework, but I don’t think that it is.

I have to wait if I government give me that caretaker, and how many hours in that year. They still have more than month to give me a reply.

​

Should I change my camps place to make me family happy?

Hey, y'all, thank you so much for the support and responses I got from my last post! It means a lot.

I'm still on mobile, please forgive any formatting mistakes.

So my last story ended in August of 2017, and I'll pick back up there. I moved into my student housing by myself that semester, and spent pretty much all my time alone. As I said, I developed Addison's in April, so I was on a huge dose of steroids to keep up with the most basic of schoolwork. In October, I came down with a migraine that lasted on and off for a month and a half, to the point that I moved back home and went to my nurse practitioner every three days for a new medicine to try because nothing was working. By that time, I'd already mostly failed my classes, so I declared the rest of them incomplete and stayed home.

That Christmas wasn't bad. My brother and I stayed in with our mother and we just had a little Christmas amongst ourselves. My dad's family didn't call, and my mom's family left us alone, thankfully.

The next semester I began to heal a little faster, I had an excellent therapist on campus that was super helpful. I actually passed the four classes I took that semester, thankfully. I decided I was going to move off campus after that semester, try to save a little money. My best friend was also coming back to Lubbock after spending a year at a community college in her hometown, so I thought we could get an apartment together since we had already lived together for a few months and gotten along well. She's the only person I still talk to from college that met my father, and later that's important.

In February of 2018 my brother cracked his pelvis in a wrestling match. He was outweighed by his opponent by about seventy pounds in the heavyweight class, and it was his first match. His school didn't take it seriously, and didn't take him to a hospital for almost two days, until he couldn't get out of his bunk without screaming. My mother was extremely angry, and I had to drive up every two weeks to check on him and make sure the school was doing what they were supposed to do. That cut into my school time, but I had to make sure he was okay, you know?

He was on crutches for a month and a half, then one crutch for a month, then a back brace for two months.

That summer, I felt reasonably good, and I was controlling my Addison's pretty well, even though the steroids had made me put on over a hundred pounds. So I decided to take summer classes to try and catch up. I took twelve hours--never again 😅. But I passed the ones I meant to pass and purposefully failed a hard one so I could grade replace it the next semester, so I counted it as a win.

I passed all my classes that fall semester, though my roommate and I began to have some problems--she was having a gastric sleeve surgery done, and I was encouraging her to just go ahead and get it done, and she was refusing because she was scared to see the psychologist required. That wasn't easy, but we got through it. The main problem that semester was that my mother had broken a vertebra in her back in September, and had to be moved to a long term care facility to recover (not the same one my dad was in, thankfully.) So we drove up to see her just about every weekend.

When I got to her facility on December 9 after passing all my classes, my mom was so proud of me, and I felt like I was finally getting back on track.

Then the next day her doctor came in and told her that her MRI results had come back and she had stage IV bone cancer, metastasized and in all her bones. All she could do was look at me and cry, because she knew what this was doing to me. She had known it was cancer for a week, and kept it from me during finals so I could focus. This was just the confirmation.

I felt... nothing for a few hours. I had been so hopeful, so excited. And then this happened. Arguably it was easier than my dad, because my mom had health problems all my life and we were always prepared to lose her, but... after I went to college, my mom became my best friend, and just about the only person I talked to regularly after my dad died. Who else could really understand what I was going through besides her and my brother, after all, and my brother wasn't always allowed to have his phone.

But at the same time... it was so soon after my dad. And we had next to no time to prepare, because she was already stage IV. There was no warning, no symptoms that were different from what she'd already been dealing with my whole life.

Now comes some family drama: my mother was trustee of a large trust set up by her great aunt Louise. She had kept the mineral rights for some land in Colorado and New Mexico that had a lot of oil and other stuff, so that was what funded it. Louise had my mother as trustee to keep the money out of my grandfather, George's, hands, because we all knew that George used money to control everyone in the family. He used it to control my mother, my aunt, his wife, his wife's brother, his wife's sister, and all four of his grandchildren, myself included. Louise's trust was supposed to be distributed when only two beneficiaries were left alive, which were my grandmother, Eleanor, her sister Barbara, her brother John, and her brother Fred.

Fred committed suicide in 2008, and that led to another whole huge mess I won't get into right now, but that still left three beneficiaries alive, not two. So Louise's trust wasn't supposed to be distributed. The last time I saw a total for it, which would have been around 2015, there was over 3 million in it. My mother did her best to set up a separate account that would pay for Barbara's expenses in perpetuity, but I think George has dissolved that by now.

Then my mother set to work making sure that my brother and I would be taken care of. She put all four IRA accounts she was in charge of (two for her, two for my dad) and all the other assets she had in a trust for my brother and I, and put a family friend in charge of it, as well as made her executrix of her estate. I wasn't involved in most of that, because I went back to school after my birthday and that was all set up after I left.

I took my brother back to his school on January 3rd, and the entire drive was silent. We both knew what was coming.

My best friend/roommate had come up to stay with me after we got the diagnosis, so she and I stayed with my mom until we went back to school. During this time, my grandfather came to visit, and promised my mother on her deathbed that he'd help me take care of my health, including going to see a specialist that he picked out in Roswell. He'd pay for it, and everything would be good. My mother cried as she begged me to accept his offer of help, because she didn't want me to end up like her.

My parents and I both have what's called chronic inflammatory response syndrome, which means that my immune system never shuts off, even when I'm not sick. It's triggered by a severe mold allergy, and my body then attacks all mold spores it finds. This means I have chronic arthritis, weight gain, fatigue, and a weakened immune system, as well as the Addison's. This doctor in Roswell was one of about twenty in the world trained to treat CIRS, by a doctor in Maryland that my mom went to see in 2009. She was actually a case study in one of his books.

The last time I saw my mother was on my 22nd birthday, and I asked her if it was okay if I didn't come back. I didn't want to see her the way I'd seen my father, almost comatose and unresponsive, unable to take care of herself, dying.

She told me that was okay, and that she loved me. Then she made Rowen (best friend/roomie) promise to take care of me, and she still takes that promise seriously to this day. I drove back to Lubbock with Row and my cat Alice knowing I'd never see my mother again. She requested a closed casket funeral, and we'd already set everything up, picked out her favorite hymns and such that she wanted sung.

So I settled in to wait.

Thanks again for listening, y'all, and if you'd like to hear more, let me know. More family drama ahead.

Hello, first time poster, and on mobile, so please bear with me!

I've been feeling isolated for a few years, and I figured I'd see if anyone else was having a similar experience. Sometimes you just need to know you're not alone.

I was never allowed to have a job in high school, because my mother was sick and needed me home to take care of her. When I graduated, I went off to college and did okay. I wasn't great at making friends, but I ended up with a small friend group. I was a female studying engineering, so I was a bit of an oddity. 😊

In October of that year, my parents called me home and told me my father had stage II melanoma. His surgery was in two weeks. When I came home for Thanksgiving, he was in good shape and joking about the neck lift he got with the skin removal procedure.

That winter break was the first time my mother forgot my birthday. We had just come back from MD Anderson for my dad's checkup, and she was acting weird, more tired, more run down. One afternoon, she spent four hours sitting on the toilet in the bathroom, and I had to get my father to get her back on her feet and into her chair. (She slept in a lazy boy because it was hard for her to get out of a bed.)

The next day, she was unresponsive. She urinated in her chair and seemed to be barely breathing. My little brother had been returned to his boarding school a couple days before, and I was at home with my mom all day, and she didn't eat, didn't drink, didn't move. My father didn't really seem to care, and after another day of this, I called my mother's best friend and asked her to come check on us, because I was afraid my mother had suffered a stroke or something.

That night, my father spent two hours cleaning my mother while I spent the time cleaning her chair and the rug under it, one of the worst nights of my life. The next day was my 20th birthday. My mother didn't remember, and neither did my father. Or any of my family, really, and I think only three of my friends texted me.

I hesitated to go back to school the next semester, but my mother swore up and down that she would be fine. So I did. In February, I called my dad because I hadn't been able to get my mom on the phone for a couple days and I was worried she'd relapsed. He told me she was in a coma in the hospital, and there was no reason for me to come home. (College was five hours away from home.)

Turns out her gall bladder had gone crazy and begun producing the wrong enzymes, and she might have also had pancreatitis and a few other things, as well as an underlying diabetic problem. That was apparently part of the reason she'd been taken in, she'd gone into a diabetic coma and my father hadn't been able to wake her after he got home from work. She spent a month and half in the hospital, then went home.

Two weeks later my father had another check up at MD Anderson. He was stage IV, metastasized from his skin to his lungs, liver, stomach, and brain. That explained why he was so brain-dead during my mom's stay in the hospital. I ended up with a crazy roommate that semester, who threatened to kill herself multiple occasions and just generally acted weird. She was the reason I failed Calc I, there's a police report on campus for that incident. I had to move out of my dorm room at five in the morning.

I ended up failing that semester, and went home to my father, who was being... difficult. He'd already undergone gamma knife radiation for the cancer in his brain, and was on Tafinlar and Mekinist because he had the BRAF mutation. His brother had taken him for one check up and called my mom talking nonsense about how "we all live and die in God's time and it's wrong to try and change that." Keep in mind this man's wife is a breast cancer survivor. Hypocrisy much?

Anyway, my father didn't want to continue treatment, because his oncologist was recommending whole brain radiation therapy. I convinced him to try it, and he completed two weeks of a three week treatment plan. After that, he lost the will to fight and chose to be hospitalized and put on comfort care. His oncologist had suggested trying Opdivo, but my father didn't seem interested, and my mother chose to let him decide. It was his body, in her mind, and if he was done fighting, that was his decision.

His parents decided differently.

Let me preface by saying my father had not kept them informed during the progression of his illness. They insisted that if he just ate and exercised, he'd be fine. My mother signed an information release for his oncologist in case they wanted to talk to him, but they chose not to.

After spending three weeks with my dad in a long term care facility, his parents forged a medical power of attorney and got her removed from the facility. The only reason this worked was because the vice-director remembered her and didn't like her from when she'd participated in the rotary club twenty years before. He was also 6' 4" and very imposing, whereas my mother was 5'3" and used a walker, but she refused to be intimidated by him.

The night she was removed, we tried to go back and remove my father as well, but the vice-director upheld the forged power of attorney and refused to let us remove him. He also threatened to have me (20f) and my little brother (12m) arrested.

When my mom insisted my brother and I visit my dad, which we did twice, his parents and accusing other family refused to leave the room. They also kept his room extremely hot so that my intensly private father was laid out in nothing but a diaper on his bed, not even under a sheet. He wasn't awake much at this point, because the cancer was wrapped around his brain stem at the base of his skull, and it was slowly cutting off his brain from his body. His oncologist said it was just a matter of which bodily system would fail first.

My mom was allowed one more visit, when the vice-director allowed our priest to perform last rites for my father as long as he was allowed to stay in the room. The next time she saw my dad, he was dead.

But his parents had somehow gotten him put on kidney medicine and his blood pressure medicine again and it had bleached his mustache an ugly orange color. Keep in mind, he was on doctor ordered comfort care, so only pain medicine. But these people somehow managed to get another doctor to give him other things. I never knew how.

The funeral was the day after my little brother's 13th birthday and was extremely awkward with his parents, but we got through it. He's buried in a beautiful cemetery in Colorado, a very long way away from where he grew up and where his parents live.

I developed adrenal insufficiency because of the stress, and it progressed pretty quickly to Addison's disease. This all happened between August of 2016 and August of 2017, if y'all are interested in hearing more, let me know? I'm sorry for dumping on everyone, but it's nice to know I'm not alone sometimes.

Small teaser, my grandfather is suing my mother's estate for theft of 3 million dollars and has been for over a year.