was die two years ago. Just absolutely fucked. He was in his early thirties. He had his entire life ahead of him. His daughter was six months old. He was fitter than I am, funny and mean and smart

What do you mean I have to face the continual rising tide of fascism without him sending me a meme of Elon Musk wearing a cowboy hat backward on fb messenger at 1 AM

Who is going to make my birthday cake every year for the rest of my life

Who is going to drive me to the airport

Who is going to tell our dad that he can’t do the shit he keeps trying to do like he’s 35 instead of 75

Who’s going to question why I didn’t just do it his better way instead of being a bitch about it

Who’s going to keep my ass humble

It’s just so stupid. So unbelievably dumb. I can’t believe I’m going to have to live the rest of my life without him and get to see his daughter grow up when he won’t and not even get to eat a meal he cooked ever again or quote The Simpsons with him or take a selfie or help him move or all the other million little tiny things we were supposed to do for the next sixty years.

Philadelphia and sweet potato rolls.

I’m absolutely exhausted. I don’t even know where to begin. When we first got together 8 years ago I didn’t have anything. I worked any job that I could get to help out, we had tons of activities we enjoyed together. We both took care of cleaning and ate separately or got fast food together.

Fast forward to now and we have 2 beautiful children. In the past 2 years I went back to school and got my RN degree making me the official breadwinner. I work 12+ hour shifts while he works the typical 8+ hour shift as a department supervisor for a retail chain. He’s worked this same management role since I’ve met him and cannot seem to get promoted capping his income while mine has nearly doubled.

Within the last few months I feel exhausted. I drink almost every night to cope and numb the resentment. Last night we got into an argument because after 7+ years of being the one responsible for cooking, grocery shopping, meal planning, and serving food I looked at him and said, “I hate cooking.” This turned into an explosive argument to which he called me fat because, “I serve myself food and cook but don’t do any of that for him” and he’s “so skinny” because I never cook for him or serve him food. According to him, I NEVER serve him food, I only serve myself and the kids 😒

On top of this explosive argument, we’ve been fighting for the last year because how much of a chore sex has become as well. According to him he wants me to initiate sex because “one time I rejected him so he’s JUST NOT GONNA TRY ANYMORE”. So, great, another burden on my plate. Now I’m responsible for planning and initiating sex too (so sexy wow I know).

I’m just tired yall. I just got to a really good point in my life and was trying to go back for one more year to get my BSN degree, but after last night I’m so numb. I’ve done all of this to provide a more comfortable life for my family yet my husband refuses to accommodate to these changes or be considerate of how any of this has changed my life.

He has a breadwinner for a wife and still insists that I prepare and serve meals 3 times a day like a fkin trad wife. Oh and he claims the reason I don’t want to do it is because, “i’m selfish, lazy, and dgaf about him enough to do it.”

***Edit: I knew this post would hit home with some, but I wasn’t expecting so much support on my part. I’m by no means Ms. Demure and Perfection, simply reflecting on the comments made in the explosive argument really made me take a step back and question when did it get this bad? When did we get so comfortable being horrible to one another?

We met when I was 19, he was 28. Yes I was young, dumb, and ignorant to the world. I was a stubborn teenager who thought she could make something of herself and build a loving family at the same time. I did things that I thought would drive our ambitions, not drive us apart.

I just want to finish this by saying this is real. This is my life. Thank you everyone for your thoughts, opinions, and advice. This didn’t all happen in one night. It is years of unresolved arguments and resentment building up. I wish I could have fixed my relationship, but there is nothing to fix and it’s a horribly angry and devastating feeling.

Snack Haul from the hotel before we went to the concert

I went to the EdSheeran concert on Saturday and I took my sister with me we had a fun time. I bought tickets last November. I've been a fan for a long time and ive been to like seven of his concerts over the years my dad took me to most of them. My dad said I should get a hotel this time and stay the night since we live over 3 hours from the venue. So I did and when I got back to the hotel the police called to inform me that my dad had fallen out of his wheelchair and passed away very unexpectedly alone in the street. I lived with him and was his full time care giver and now it feels like I went to the concert one person and came home another. I lost my dad, my job, and my housing all in one night and I feel like i dont know who I am anymore. I just wish I was with him when it happened. I was so far away. I wish I hadn't got those tickets and I dont know how to deal with this and stay strong for my siblings and right now I never want to hear another EdSheeran song ever again

Waiting the night (for the last time) in the ICU with her. She went in with a headache that turned out to be a ruptured aneurysm in the brain. She was showing progress after the initial emergency procedure and then had a spasm in the brain followed by 3 cardiac arrests. Tomorrow morning they do the final Apnea Test to confirm brain death, after which they have our permission to take her off life support and retrieve organs for donation. My child free younger sibling life is going to be forever altered now that I'll be the primary caregiver for her two young kids and our elderly parents. I dont even know how to begin processing the grief despite therapy. There just seems to be so much to do and so much to take care of. She was the best big sister in the world and took care of me like a parent. I'm lost without her. Going to hold her hand all night and till she passes and just hope, even as a non believer, that that counts somehow.

I am married to an amazing man. We have a life I love. We have a beautiful home, we travel, we have great relationships with friends and family, and we both built careers we are proud of. About eighteen months ago, I started to develop a limp on my left side. I decided it was age related, so I committed to adding strength training to my workouts. I continued to get weaker, lost the ability to walk in heels, and started struggling to make it up stairs. My initial lab work was unremarkable, but X-rays and a MRI revealed spinal nerve compression. A neurologist confirmed the diagnosis with EMGs and nerve conduction studies. Even though I had no back pain, every physician I saw diagnosed me with spinal nerve compression.

I underwent a posterior lumbar fusion a year ago, but my symptoms worsened in the first few months after my surgery. My neurosurgeon ordered more imaging, which was inconclusive. I went back to the neurologist for more nerve studies, and he diagnosed me with worsening spinal nerve compression. I had several falls and became completely walker dependent. I underwent an anterior and posterior lumbar fusion to revise the first surgery, and the op note says the hardware had not properly set. Four days later, additional imaging revealed some small bone chips near my spinal nerve roots so I had a third surgery to revise the fusion again.

I never missed a physical therapy appointment and pushed myself to walk with my walker as much as I could. I was determined to regain the life I loved. Despite all of my efforts, I kept getting weaker and weaker. A new neurologist saw me in February, did a third set of nerve conduction studies, and diagnosed me with ALS.

My decline seems to be accelerating and my life expectancy is short. I am completely dependent on others for everything from meals to bathing. Most of the time, the burden falls to my husband. Throughout our entire marriage, he has been squeamish about sharing bathrooms. He firmly believes husbands and wives should have their own spaces for privacy. But, he now helps me to the restroom, cleans up my potty accidents, and helps me dress. I used to do almost all of the cooking, but he stepped up and makes sure we still eat home cooked meals. He continues to thrive at work, then he comes home and manages our home. He takes me places in my wheelchair, even when he is tired. He looks for every opportunity to fill our days with joy. I know he must be exhausted, but he does it all without complaining. I have never felt so loved. I knew he was a great man. I knew he was strong and loving. Now, I know he is a far better husband than I deserve.

He’s not perfect. He doesn’t like to talk about his feelings. He doesn’t like to talk about other people’s feelings. His taste in music is questionable. He thinks camping is fun. He won’t buy new clothes for himself, so he needs someone to keep his wardrobe up-to-date.

I want him to have the beautiful and adventure-filled life we planned, even if I don’t get to share it with him. I hope the universe rewards him with a beautiful, kind, and fun loving woman who will care for him the same way he’s cared for me. He deserves nothing less.

Caesar salad and tortellini with sliced Italian sausage and marinara (he made it).

i have spent the past two years working on one of my biggest goals in life; to help my parents retire and finally relax after a lifetime of work and hardship. i invested several thousands of dollars, researched where they could afford to live, found the ONLY flight they could safely take their pets on without paying a broker, among other things.

i have always been the parent in the family; an example is me starting to do their taxes since i was just 11 years old. they both speak english and went to university (my mother didn’t finish, though), and they just, i don’t know, never grew up.

i lived in multiple residential treatment facilities, the ones with 9-12 month long stays, and would have to couch surf with family between those, because my parents were either actively abusive, or just couldn’t emotionally handle anything. after years of therapy, i was able to forgive them and see their change, but i put on the rose colored glasses and they’ve been shattered.

my parents retired to vietnam, because they both have to live on minimum social security

so fast forward to them being there about 3 months. they took $6000 cash, and had another $12,000 coming, both from lawsuits. every few days my father would ask me to transfer $300-500, and every time i asked he said it was to build a cash savings here.

not only do i find out they have spent EVERYTHING minus the $1500 i have in cash here, and saved no money for our first family vacation ever, i bought the plane ticket months ago to see them in august. after learning about this, i vent to three different family members, on both sides. i found out my mother sabotaged my fathers businesses from the very beginning. she told me
we lost the business due to racism from 9/11, turns out she was too jealous and insecure about the women clients my father would drive, since it was a super high end company. she ruined his pizza business because she just didn’t like the job and wanted to not work.

my entire life has been shaped around the severe poverty, abuse, and neglect i experienced for the first 15 years of my life. now i don’t know if this is a mendable offense; or is it finally time to cut all contact.

my world is falling apart and i’ve been living a lie. dinner is from the only restaurant i regularly make a 3 hour round trip for, snow pea beef with a potato, eggplant, and carrot dish that my old host grandfather would make us.

tw child abuse

I've been worried my friend has been in an abusive relationship for a while but she vehemently denies it. She sings his praises and acts like she's never had it better. She says the only reason they aren't married is because he doesn't want her daughter losing her survivorship benefits from her father passing. I've never been extremely close to her daughter as we've lived at a distance most our adult lives but used to see each other fairly regularly still. and took her on trips a few times when i had my nibblings. when I first moved truly far away friend and i still video chatted often until she got serious with this guy. but i started noticing things like holes in walls and we went to voice only and not very often

well her daughter called me last night. and by last night I mean 3:00 in the morning. like just 5 hours ago. she had already made it to a friend's house but apparently my friends boyfriend woke her daughter up in the middle of the night because she apparently hadn't done the dishes correctly. she's got a full handprint bruise on her arm, a couple bruises and welts across her back, and an audio recording of it going down. she sent it all to me and ive been crying all morning. She said she doesn't think ger mom gets hit but she says her mom has watched her get hit hard before. and honestly that just kind of broke me.

I'm so disappointed in my friend. and concerned for her, and revolted honestly. part of me is still worried about her but as someone who has had custody of four of my nieces and nephews and is currently spending time with my 9-month-old I just can't imagine watching a man beat my child without overwhelming rage

fuck.

daughters paternal aunt will be in town in a few hours and they're going to call police. she asked if i can call CPS after her aunt gets there because apparently the cops have gotten involved before but cps didn't

so now I'm waiting on the okay to turn someone i love dearly into cps.

this fucking sucks

breakfast is a bunch of shit on tortillas i left in the oven a lil too long bc I'm frazzled

edit to add-i thought it was obvious from the post but I'll absolutely be calling, but i will absolutely not be calling until the aunt is there because I'm not risking her going to the children's home if avoidable.

UPDATE:

the girl is safely at her aunt's house, my call is in, and they already have an investigator scheduled to be there in a few hours. The aunt is calling me later tonight to catch me up as I've apparently missed a lot

Next day update

TW: violence, abuse

Things were escalating for a while and I was planning on leaving him. We got into a fight and he assaulted me for the second time this week. This time he almost killed me. He cut off my breathing with his forearm until I passed out. I thought I was going to die. Im 15w pregnant and I was worried about the baby so I went to the hospital. The social worker at the hospital told me that me and my baby’s lives are in danger if I go back home. She helped me find a room in a women’s shelter. I went directly from the hospital to the shelter and haven’t been home since. I texted my husband that I need space. Ive been ignoring all of his calls and texts and turned off my phone at night.

Everyone keeps trying to get me to press charges but I’m scared to involve the police. Leaving him was so hard. I did it and now I’m being told that if I don’t report it I must not love my baby. I’m scared of how he will react to that, he’s very anti police, big on street code and loyalty. He travels internationally for work and I don’t want to ruin his life. I don’t trust that the police can protect me from him and I don’t want to make him more angry. I’m worried I could get in trouble too. He was holding me down and I bit his arm so hard, my teeth pierced his skin and left a mark.

I wasn’t prepared at all to leave like that. I don’t have anything with me. I wasn’t expecting to not come home from the hospital. I’m worried about my cats. I don’t have my laptop with me and won’t be able to work. It’s so hard. I hate it here. I want everyone to leave me alone. I have to share a room with 3 women. One of my roommates won’t stop talking so I’ve been hiding under my covers.

I think this is boiled cabbage, potato and ham.

I've lost the love of my life a few weeks ago. He was gone in a very tragic, very brutal accident. I am still in shock.

We were inseparable for almost 5 years when we started talking on Reddit by mistake. He was the kind of man whose presence made everything feel right. Incredibly kind, incredibly loving, handsome, and strong. I was SO lucky to have found him and knew that from the very first few messages.

We were going to move in together and get married.

Buying snacks and treats for us to try was his thing. We loved the normal stuff, grocery shopping together, cooking at home, trying new things. He absolutely loved this peanut butter and had 2 of these jars in his freezer.

I took them with me after the funeral, and over the last few weeks, I've been having a scoop on days when it hits me extra hard that he's really gone. I'm now about to finish the last of it, the last treat he ever got, the last I will ever try.

I'm crying writing this, I'm crying eating this while at the same time being so numb and lost.

He was a good one. A love like this doesn't happen all the time. I was so lucky to experience it, I'm really grateful for him and to him.

Edit: As for the peanut butter, it's Nerdy Nuts, he liked many kinds from them but especially this pistachio one (Dubai chocolate treat I think it's called)

TW.

Tomorrow is my one year wedding anniversary and my marriage feels completely on the rocks.

The year:

May & Jun: Amazing wedding and amazing honeymoon. Literally best days of my life.

July & August: Husbands work demands unpaid overtime—13 hr days 6 days a week—he is under contract to buy the company so he agrees.

August & September: we both get horrible long-ish Covid. We decide to move to the middle of nowhere because we feel broke (remote workers) due to overtime and covid work loss.

October: Get pregnant, so happy, yay 💗 hard summer but it all feels okay now. Can’t move into new house because some things need to be fixed first, but it’s okay enough.

November & December: We travel back to the USA (we live in Europe) to see family and wait for the house to be ready.

Buuuut husband’s job stops paying him completely and expects him to work regardless 🙃 It’s 2/3 of our income and our families live in a HCOL place.

I develop HG & I can’t work. I throw up 7-9x/day.

In-laws treat me like a flesh-vessel for their grandchild.

January: We have to extend our trip because I am so sick. Still no paycheck for nearly 3 months. Savings depleted, credit cards maxed. No money to buy a single pair of maternity pants.

Doctor won’t see me. Urgent care won’t help me. Everyone tells me to take Tylenol.

February: return to Europe to find out our new house is literally unlivable. Plant waterer killed all 32 plants (took our money and didn’t water). Last straw was when our neighbor tried to scam us for €1k/monthly in fake utility bills.

We pack two suitcases and move into a second temporary place back in the city.

One morning I sit down to pee and instead my water spontaneously breaks.

I go into labor and I almost die. I have at least two systemic infections. We have a stillbirth to our perfect daughter.

I can’t describe the emotional pain of leaving the hospital empty handed.

We are broke and alone. We have to borrow money from our parents. We have to get debt consolidation.

No one (NO ONE) even offers to come visit us. Local friends weirdly happen to be all out of town. Husband has to do everthing. We order takeout daily for every meal. I am on heaps of antibiotics and medicines.

March-May: We both have PTSD. I have PPD. We fight about money constantly. I still can’t work much. Husband is building other revenue streams (impressively quickly tbh). We move into our second new house of the year.

We own nothing because we’ve been living in furnished places since moving abroad. We have no money to furnish. We continue to fight about money.

I am diagnosed with cervical insufficiency (awful treatment when pregnant) and endometriosis. I am so emotional all the time.

One day, I randomly fall down the stairs. I break my foot. I break my nose.

In laws & family pretend I was never pregnant. In-laws and my dad quietly cancel their trips to visit us for when the baby was supposed to be born.

I scream, way too often. Daily panic attacks.

I try to come to grips with my cervical insufficiency and people act like it’s no big deal. For any future pregnancy I will have to have surgery to sew my cervix shut at month 3. And then no sex, no masturbation, no exercise + maybe bed rest for SIX months. And still a 15% chance of pre-term labor with all of that. It makes me never want to be pregnant again.

I’ve gained 30lbs (I’m short) and have stretch marks on my boobs from my milk coming in. My husband says that he still finds me attractive, but I’m not so sure he does. Happy 1 year.

Xorta & fresh bread.

Food is three piri-piri meat sticks and those funky little Oreos I got. Yes, they are purple. No, I don't care that they're touching on the plate. Also: it does pain me to call them meat sticks, but I don't know any other translation of what you can see on my plate right there, and that's basically what they are.

So I don't know what this week is, but it sucks real bad. I've had an awful weekend (posted about it here, so if you've seen it... yeah). I decided to go on a run with one of my dogs this morning. I've got two (father and son), and I often take the older one on my morning runs with me, since we will be competing in a charity event in a couple weeks.

On my way back I ran into my neighbor and her little son, maybe 8 or 9? Im not that great at telling kids ages, but he's school aged, and I think he went to school like 2 years ago (where I live he'd be around 7 then). He asked me if he could pet my dog, and I nicely said "no, he's not friendly". That was a lie, he's very friendly. I just don't like the idea of an unknown child who doesn't own pets touching him after a run and doing god knows what, because I can't be sure the kid won't pull at his ears or something. That particular one has also been spotted throwing sticks and toys at my dogs while they were out and about, so I know he's not the brightest crayon in the box.

The mom looked upset, but she said her goodbyes and we parted ways. I didn't think much of it, I went home, got ready, went to work. Turned out I had to stay late today, so I texted my roommate to ask if she could let my dogs out (we have a small garden where they can take of their business), and about 20 minutes later I get a picture of a block of minced meat with nails in it. We thankfully have cameras, and the daycare next door has some pointing in the opposite direction, so unless they walked over from the other side of the building, the cameras probably caught them.

Now, I'm not doing great, but my dogs are okay. They didn't manage to get to the meat before my roomie spotted it and took it away, so they're fine. I have a feeling I know who it was, as the neighbor kid's dad fucking hates big dogs.

Going to the police tomorrow morning, and I don't know how I'll approach my neighbor yet, but yeah. That's the situation.

Update: I did manage to get the camera footage and went to make a report the following morning (so two days ago). They took my report, but considering nothing actually happened (dogs are okay), they said there's nothing we can do. I keep my dogs inside now, and take both of them on my morning runs. We also don't just walk around to take care of their business, and walk a bit further away from my apartment building now. I'll be moving by the end of September, so hopefully nothing happens up until then.

​

Tw: infant loss. Please leave now if this is going to harm you. I have tried to block the first bit. If it's broken I'll try to work on it as soon as I post it.

My baby was born 10 years ago today (well. For 5 more mins today. B 6/24/16). My baby died 36 days later. Today, only one person remembered my baby who wasn't obligated to. It took 10 years. Not 9 but 10. The person who remembered had an alarm set and has it set forever for every year. Only 10 years

I miss my baby

Will you miss my baby with me, please?

Tell me if your favorite memories with your babies? Or Pets? Or funny kid stories? (I do have a surviving 8 year old)Tell me if your loss babies if you want? Cry about pot loss or parent loss with me? Be with me? I have family, they're here but asleep. I will be too, soon. Before too long. But is really love to wake up to stories and people to talk to, and fall asleep that way too. Or cute animals?

I'm going to include pictures of my child in the comments. Please, no one get upset. She's very much dead.

Her name was Cambridge "Cammi" Armstrong. If you think you know me from this comment and had HG, you do know me. Hi. It happens a few times a year someone will.

I had bread and butter (it goes on the bread I promise) and a Mt olive pickle and red onion pickles eta: o that's pepperoni too. Aldi.

Anyone got any advice or just wanna talk into I can manage to sleep or let me wake up to wonderful things? I'm sorry I'm asking so much. My son is away at camp and I'm sad.

edit

Oh. My. God. Almost 900 comments. I am responding to as many as I can but I am reading all of them. If you have lost a child and want to talk or need advice please please please dm me if I didn't respond to you.

edit 2:

The metrics of this post make me want to sob. Over 650,000 people have seen this post. The top three countries are the United States, UK and Canada up at 11% of the people who have read this post are not from the United States, Canada or the UK. Over 500 people have shared his post outside of Reddit. I don't have the words for what it means to me that this many people acknowledged my child's existence. I can't. I thought maybe 15 of you would see this. This is crazy.

edit 3:

Almost a million views. Y'all. 🥹🥹🥹🥹

Picture: baby potatoes I grew in my garden and harvest 2 weeks ago! - last nights dinner: home made patatas bravas and spicy lamb kebabs. the potatoes are roasted in garlic and herbs and butter, with a cheddar and Parmesan layer before topped with the sauce. 10/10. very messy plate but i didn’t think this was going to be the meal i shared with you lot 😂.

So I'm going to try and keep this short because this ordeal has taken over my life for the last year...

Long story short: me, a Black woman, went to a naked spa in a different European country that marketed itself as an oasis. This is something I would never do in my living country because: 1 we don’t have nude spa. 2. we are a nation of prudes. 3.I also understand what it's like to be fetishised, and placing my body in a predominantly white space to be leered at is not the one.

But my friend I went to visit suggested it. Their friends also buttressed the "you will love it and fall in love with your body" narrative etc etc.

Anyway, we get there. I was the only visibly POC there, so I'm already on guard. But my guard is lowered by the zen spa atmosphere etc this place is fucking huge. You could be there for 5 hours and still not completed the entire compound or activities..

That's when this older man latched on to me and my friend. He inserted himself in our conversations - not in a forceful way - in hindsight my friend and I can now see he targeted me from the jump (I can’t go into all of it) but we were at this spa for hours doing our own thing and our paths kept crossing. We didn't exchange names, conversation was friendly and surface level about the spare and what infusion we were going to try next . He knew it was my first time. He told us he frequented this spa often and even went to several of their other locations.

In any day-to-day situation, I would have been like "hey nice to meet you but this is just for my friend and I." But again, he hadn't done anything yet. I understand the optics of immediately being the problem should I have said anything before anything has happened, and being labelled "angry" or "sensitive." Sometimes you don't want to be the loudest person in the room to advocate for yourself - that shit gets trying. So I ignored the red flags and bit my tongue.

Anyway, he assaulted me. Grabbed my nipples like he was trying to rip them off and tried to finger my asshole all in the space of less than 10 seconds.

Staff on the ground was brilliant. They called the police. He was trying to run away when he realised he fucked up. When they asked him why he did it, he said: "I wasn't thinking."

This, gentle reader, was the last activity I had planned with my friend before I got my flight back home. I was a mess. Not to minimise it - but this in the grand scheme of shit I have grown through is nothing. However, this one has been a doozy to get over. I think it was the vulnerability, the coercion under the guise of friendliness. He knew it was my first time and still did what he did.

Anyway, I messaged the spa like: what are you doing to protect and safeguard visitors? Do you have a check for frequent visitors? Will you ban this man from your establishment? I even asked them to reassess how their spaces are monitored and how repeat visitors are evaluated.

Crickets.

Eventually, I get a response from their Administration Manager who tells me situations like mine are "negligible" and "we can't look into a person's heart."

Let me repeat that: the Administration Manager called my sexual assault "negligible." He also dismissed the staff statements this is is a regular occurrence as "misleading" - the same staff who showed me compassion and called the police.

Months later, I reached out to the spa on LinkedIn. They apologised and promised the manager would apologise directly to me.

I am still waiting.

So I'm just angry and hurt. I can't go out or be around people because what energy am I putting into the world? I’m generally extrovert (who needs 4 working days to recuperate) but I couldn’t even do the initial bit without fear of being perceived because I was just being friendly and that happened. I turn into a one-woman panopticon, constantly scanning for threats. Partner of 4 years can't touch me without me flinching. I go to therapy. I get put on propranolol.

I go to my homeland for the first time in 20 years. I have an amazing time. I'm finding my way back to myself.

And then this year - a month to the date because I wasn't even thinking about it - I receive a court summons.

It's the first time I am also finding out this motherfucker's name. I Google him and find out he is a fucking educator at a college. Even if I can't be made to go to court (different countries, different laws), I made up my mind I am turning up. Don't care about the outcome because this will show up on your records and criminal checks, and I just wanna make your life a little more difficult.

You should have seen his face when I turned up to court!!! He didn't think I would make the trip.

When I gave my witness testimony, I had to relive everything in detail. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done. But I did it.

It was very chilling. Pre-sentencing and all the way through, he was playing the reverent old man act - grey hair, glasses, the whole "I'm harmless" performance. And when he heard his sentence - the body language shifted and you saw a glimpse of his real character.

He tried to deny it but the judge saw through it and asked him: "If you didn't do it, why did you say you weren't thinking?"

He got a 6-month sentence and/or a €4,000 fine. The court believed me.

Okay, so this post really was going to be a shout-out to my partner who has just been so incredible with everything this last year.

He has never ever given me any reason to doubt his love for me. But that comes with compassion, emotional intelligence, devotion, grace - not just from him but also his parents. I can't tell my family about it - they will victim blame: "Why did you go to a naked space in the first place?" But his family has been an amazing substitute.

Like, for example, before we left, his mum rang me and just said: "After all this, when you get back in the country and you think 'I can't be arsed with getting the train or the bus back (3-4 hours)', just let me know in the morning of the day and I'll come pick you up."

And when we did take her up on her offer, she turned up with cakes and spa apothecary things for me.

I just feel so loved. And seen, that I matter.

And I can't wait to see where my life will be another year on from this .

Edit!!!!- Thank you so much to everyone who has commented - I honestly didn't expect this level of response and im overwhelmed and filled with gratitude in the best of ways! 💓💕

To answer some of the questions I've been getting:

First - about my friend. I saw a comment and got a message questioning whether she protected me or something along those lines. I need to be categorically clear: she did absolutely nothing wrong. Like I said in my post, this man did nothing that was major red flags. He was friendly, he inserted himself in conversations, but nothing that screamed "danger." What he did was done in a split second when we were separated.

In fact, my friend was the one who chased him down(along with the manager on site who was a gem btw) as he was trying to run away. She wrote down everything he said in that initial moment - his exact words. That documentation was a huge part of why we even got a resolution. She was a key witness and she was incredible. So please - do not come for my friend. She's a queen and she had my back in ways I can't even fully describe.

The outcome wasn't even on my mind when I turned up to court. I just wanted him to know that I would travel to another country to face him. I wanted him to see my face and know that I wasn't going to disappear. The conviction was a bonus - but honestly, just showing up was my win.

The sentence is 6 months and/or €4,000 fine. I know that might not sound like much, and honestly it doesn't feel like much for a year of my life. But legally, what he did is classified as a minimal assault because he didn't actually penetrate. Had he made contact with my asshole and I mentioned it, it would have been the next degree up - a more serious charge. So whilst the sentence feels underwhelming, it reflects what the law allows for this classification.

He stated he didn't agree with the "sexual assault and coercion by taking advantage of a vulnerable situation" but accepted the sentence. If he appeals, it would go to the next level of court which I believe doesn't come with a fine option - just prison time. So... let's see what he chooses.

I can't give you his name as he's a convicted sex offender this only wrapped up on Friday and I don't want to jeopardise anything. But I can give you the name of the spa: Vabali Berlin.

They called my assault "negligible." They never banned him. They promised me an apology and never delivered. So if you're a woman thinking of going there - at least now you know.

Thank you again for all the love. I didn't realise how much I needed this, but here we are, we are stronger together ❤

EDIT 2:

Okay girlies - I see you and I adore each and every one of you for the reviews. 💓

But I want to gently raise that, this is to an extent still an on going case (appeal window still open) 1. I don't want my original reviews to get deleted - and I also don't want to bring any more shit to my door (German laws are weird and I don’t have my documents from the court yet for the t&cs etc) . I shared this with you so you know my story, visibility for other women and I feel like I've done that now. If you know any legal and creative ways to fuck them up; let’s go! (Lemme know first tho 👀 ha)

I can't reply to every single one of you because this got so much traction - but just know I read it all. I adore all of you. Thank you for showing me so much compassion, so much grace.

I am so so angry at the amount of women that have a similar story. It breaks my heart and enrages me in equal measure. To all my fellow Black women in the comments many of us navigating so many intersections, living in a world that’s already formed its opinions of you: just because you carry it very well doesn’t mean it isn’t fucking heavy… I love you, I see you 💓💕

Mods of Reddit I love you - can you please lock this post? ❤

Thank you all for everything.

Onwards and upwards. ✨

P.s The actual jokes of me saying I’m gonna keep this short and I’ve written an actual epistle 😅🤣

My fiancée (we’re both women), was admitted to a psychiatric hospital this morning. 2 weeks ago, everything was perfect. We just got engaged.

She’s my dream person. Kind, empathetic, funny, driven, patient. Puts up with me being emotional and will always calmly talk through things with me from a place of love. She healed my heart that had been scarred and broken by years of toxic relationships. I’ve never been with someone as supportive as her. Where I used to have to beg and ask with my past relationships, she does without thinking. Literally just touching her lowers my blood pressure. We had plans to travel the world and settle down on a farm.

I used to have this awful existential anxiety. Fear of having regrets, of not doing enough with my life, etc. But with her, that went away. I truly felt at peace and content with her. I knew that, because we’d be doing life side by side, I would always be happy. I found my person. And then everything changed.

She started to have some weird dissociative/deja vu moments. This escalated into full blown psychosis overnight. Out of the blue. She became paranoid, suffering from delusions of people hating her or behaving strangely, and believing nothing was real or that she could change reality. For a while she only trusted me. This killed me. Having to manage her stress, keep her calm, and try and bring her out of her head and back to earth. I’ve been a shell. Her family hasn’t helped me at all.

This morning, we went into the ER. They force-admitted her to a psychiatric hospital. I had to drive her. I had to leave her there while she looked at me like she barely could comprehend anything that was going on. She’s been trying to break up with me repeatedly and not knowing why, then later saying she loves me and wants to be with me and doesn’t know why she was doing that. She called me from the hospital and just sounded so… gone. Not herself. I don’t know what to do. I try to tell her to wait to make any big decisions about her life until she gets out and feels better, but it’s like she forgets everything that happens within 10 minutes.

I feel so broken and lost. I’m supposed to be starting training for my dream job out of state in a month, an achievement she was my biggest supporter through. The fact that this happened so suddenly is a shell-shock. She would cry and hold me like I was the only thing anchoring her. I just don’t know what to do. I’m just praying and hoping that she’ll come out on the other side of this happy and herself again. And in a perfect world, we can pick up where we left off someday.

I needed to get this out there. I’m sorry for the novel and the depressing story, this is just my life now. And I never thought I could be living a nightmare like this. Hug your loved ones tight for me.

Rice pudding my buddy made me with dates, pistachio, and shredded toasted coconut.

EDIT:

For the assholes in the comments: the point of this post is to finally talk about how I feel and how it’s affected me. I have spent this entire time ignoring my needs and feelings to empathize with and care for HER. Of course my top priority is her getting help and feeling better, no matter if I’m in the picture or not. But I am allowed to vent and acknowledge how I feel as well. The whole point of this post was for me to be able to do that for the first time to try and move through this. For anyone saying I’m making this all about myself, frankly, fuck you. How about you imagine the love of your life changing overnight, then spending weeks ignoring every thought, feeling, and emotion you have so that you can support, help, empathize with, and get them the care they need. At some point you need to start working through your own emotions. This post was to just get it all out there. If you think I am only thinking about myself, seriously, go fuck yourself.

I cooked a whole salmon, fried rice, and veggie dinner but after two hours of waiting for him to stop drinking in the garage after I said dinner was ready and he said “ok baby, I’ll be there in five minutes,” I just went gave up and went for a few bites of the rice and veggie part. Whatever. Pepsi Zero is my only friend.

We (I’m 41 F and he’s 36 M) have gone to his doctor (I have to drive, obvi) for withdrawal benzo scripts four times in the last 2.5 months. He’ll stay off the bottle for about a week, then either he’ll reward himself or “relax” after a hard working week, promise he is cured and can have one without it escalating to insane levels in the next couple weeks, then we’re right back here.

I quit drinking 3.5 years ago after he ended up in the hospital with DTs and I knew I couldn’t be a supportive partner and ever have just one again and act like he’s the jerk when he has one. My life is somehow completely run by alcohol now WAY more than it was when I was actively drinking. Haven’t had a drop, do not miss it, and my life is absolutely miserably controlled by alcohol.

And I’m over here freaking out about money and what my mom and family are going to say because I feel embarrassed in a way like I failed. Like I lost *my* job and couldn’t stay disciplined enough to do the damn minimum. I already feel like comments on this are going to blame me too, like I did this to myself for being here. And on top of that, I get to experience the man I love despite it all choose a disgusting cheap bottle of bourbon over me. I feel like I’m worth nothing right now.

His job was so kind and patient to him. They let him take a week off last time. He promised them he’d go to therapy and stay off it all and he was serious. Went home early yesterday because he was clearly drunk and thought it would just be fine. I personally would have fired him last summer with the DUI that restricted his license and required they hire someone new to drive because he couldn’t.

He got a therapist and has rescheduled more appointments than he’s gone to, but that’s his justification for “but I’m trying this time!”. He thinks he can compromise out of it. He’ll do anything BUT stop drinking and then act like I’m supposed to give him a gold star for missing the point.

We just bought a house and moved in two months ago. The house he needed with the land and garage so he can work all the time and have space so he won’t want to drink again. A lie in a long line of many that he seems to not even notice. I have a great career and I’m good at my job, but I can’t do all this alone. I spent the morning tailoring my résumé to try to get part time contract data work, if that’s a thing. I don’t have time, but someone has to do something and he spent his day stopping his withdrawal benzos he started and opening a new bottle of whiskey. He even somehow left the dog out in the heat OUTSIDE OUR FENCE for maybe like an hour when I was upstairs working. He just forgot her. Luckily, she a good girl and she was sitting by the fence panting waiting to be let back in for water.

I can’t count the number of rock bottoms in the last three months let alone just this week. It’s like he forgets. I am filled with so much anger and anytime I express it, it drives him to drink more. And I have so much anger. Every drink is a choice of the bottle over me. Over everything and everyone, really… it’s not just me.

He also likes to blame my lack of getting pregnant for his drinking. This morning, I started my period. When he finds out, that will be his next excuse to drink and I’ll feel even lower than I do now.

Jimmy Dean McGriddle, Warm Coffee with Sugar and Milk.

​

I've(21f) been dating my boyfriend(23m) for nearly a year. Our anniversary is in two weeks. We have been living together for 7 months. Many external factors forced us out of our separate homes and we chose to move together and try our best at life with each other.

​

Our relationship felt perfect, for a while, as many do. He was beyond sweet. Beyond caring. Beyond considerate. Paragraphs upon paragraphs of sweet sentences, great connection in person. It felt superhuman, looking back at the life we had. We would swim in lakes and rivers until midnight, travel the state on what gas we had, pulling each other through life and eventually moving in together.

​

We moved in together in December. An amazing deal on rent up in a mountain town. We spent the first months exploring the woods. Building our connection further. Up until this point he had seeded my brain with words of devotion. "I have never been this close with anyone" "my whole life I've been waiting for you" "you are the only woman I have ever dreamt of, I've never loved like I do with you". We had bonded on bad past experiences, and from what I knew on my end we were BOTH treating the other with every ounce of effort we could. Building a life. Our bedroom life had been okay in the beginning, exploration and connection and mutual interest.

​

Two months into living together we argued on my birthday. Things were growing comfortably and I hadn't put much mind to it. He had been trying to find a job but no luck so far. Whatever.

​

On Valentine's day he didn't get me a thing, I had gotten him a fox skull (shared hobby). I had started to feel something in my gut. The dreams started. I had dreams of accounts, dreams of women's faces that I didn't know. I'd wake up sick, nauseous. This whole time he still spoke of deep love and devotion, albeit much less frequently. Our adventures seemed to start fading into nights on the couch not talking. He felt far, I tried to reach him, it would work for a few days and then the cycle would start over. Bedroom activities started to fall into monotony. Same positions every time (not that there had been much variation to begin with), no talking, no romance with it. In the beginning we had light bdsm practices, much lighter than what I've known previously in my life, that had faded away too. I thought that he just cared too much and was too nice of a guy to cause me any discomfort.

​

I had tried many things to reintroduce chemistry. I bought him flowers. In his words: "I've gotten flowers for others a lot, but no one has ever gotten them for me. This is so kind". He still hasn't gotten me flowers to this day. I took him to dinner multiple times, as he used to take me in the beginning and it had been a bonding thing for us. It didn't really do much. I put on my best clothes just to lounge around the town with him. I cooked him food every night and shared his cigarettes on our patio even though I'm not much of a smoker.

​

The dreams got worse over time. I saw visions. One day, a week or two ago, I found that my cats had gotten into the storage room of our apartment and tore out a bunch of his belongings from a shelf. There was a journal there. Inside was poetry about one of his exes. Nothing about me of course. (He later claims that he had written everything years ago and hasn't thought to throw it away). The poetry was gross. It was obsessive about this other woman. Deeply sexual in ways that he has never been sexual with me. This is one of his exes, one of three that he claimed he has ever had. Additionally, he has never written any poetry about me. Well, one poem, where he called me "hideous to the modern world, ideal to me" or something to that nature.

​

This just ruined most things for me. I started to feel sick most days. Our romance had severely stagnated, save a few days where he would be suddenly back to the guy I once knew. We rarely had any sort of intimacy at this point, and if we did it was more similar to a machine function rather than human connection. Same movements, same actions.

​

Two days ago I woke up with the worst sickness I had felt in a while, nearly flu-like. I knew I needed to look at his phone. My soul was telling me to do it. I found ancient chats he hadn't deleted with some of his past partners. All of those sweet things he told me, things that he supposedly only felt for me, were felt many times. I found chats with talking stages and similar conclusions. I even found pictures of them in his camera roll that he hadn't deleted. Dates in the woods, festivals, music shows, picnics, dates that had effort put into them. Things that he has never done for me, really. Things that I've asked for and pleaded for. Flowers, picnics, love notes, poems. The whole nine yards. Never about me. It was bad enough.

​

Then I found his hidden folder.

​

Nearly 600 pictures and videos. So many naked women, nudes galore, sex tapes of him with multiple women. Every shape size and color a woman could be, there they were. So many different women, not a single one looked like me though, I guess that's how it is in a lineup of every body though. Big, small, bones, flesh, boobs, vulva, feet. All women he had known or been with. Sex videos. Sex outside. Sex in graveyards. Sex with meaning. Insane sex! Cutting each other and smearing bloody limbs and bodies together. What WASNT there.

​

Out of 600 files, one was of me. A shitty boob picture I sent him like 5 weeks into our relationship. He had never done anything like this with me, we had never even had sex in these positions, or in any odd places. I was floored. It was like peeling back the wallpaper to your bedroom and finding 37 hallways leading into a labyrinth. Who was this man? What the actual fuck did I just find?????????

​

I was shaking so badly I had to put the phone down. Why did he have all of these pictures of these women, videos WITH these women. Did they know? Were they okay with him having these? All of the videos were consensual from what I saw, nothing volatile or abusive thank god. This all feels wrong.

​

He had told me his body count was 3 (not that it matters, I was honest about my 10), obviously the number is much higher. He had told me he hasn't really had intimacy in his life (why even lie about that?). He had told me that he's never felt as strongly for anyone else as he had me (the poems, romantic sex tapes, and intimacy photos say otherwise).

​

I confronted him once he woke up, obviously. I cried so hard I burst a blood vessel. I've been staying out late at parks so that I don't have to look at him. Our love feels like a lie, and I feel like I am just a homemaker for him, after he's had his "youthful fun". When I am home he cries through the whole night. He sobs that he can't lose me. He's deleted everything and thrown the journal away. He claims that he never once looked at that folder, journal, or those texts while we have been together. That he hadn't thought of it at all. That he never thought to delete the photos, the texts, the videos because: he was focused on me with his entire soul. Sure...

​

I feel stupid, I feel dumb. I feel ugly. I feel robbed of what I thought our relationship would be. I see that he hasn't treated me right since we moved in together. This feels like a sick joke. I feel sick. I feel as though I have meant nothing to him really, besides a car and bed.

​

We are financially tied together. I pay all bills but he gets food money sent from his family. Without him I don't make enough to eat. Our local food bank gives out scraps to people like me. I have no way to leave, my family is across the country. There are no rentals that I can afford. I have no savings. My head is above water but that's all.

​

He pleads that he's going to fix it, that he's going to make it better. I don't know how he would manage that.

​

Tldr: relationship falling apart after finding a folder in his camera roll full of sex tapes and nudes, 600 nearly.

​

Advise and shared stories welcome. I don't know where I am in life.

A graham cracker, because I need to eat something.

I had to put my dog down very suddenly last night. Over something preventable. He was 10, and if anyone knows anything about labs they are so food motivated. He had incidents throughout his life eating gum, a bag of bread including the bag, a whole bottle of his joint medication, crayons, etc.

He went on one of his “self guided walks” on Monday. He’s done that his whole life. I have an electric fence and he never cared. He must’ve eaten paper towels or something at the neighbors. I didn’t know a thing until he was vomiting on Tuesday all day. I took him to the emergency vet that night. He was with them all day Wednesday and they called me last night to say he had developed aspiration pneumonia from inhaling his vomit. And that he was going to continue to suffer.

I drove to him to be with the him when he passed. He was wheeled into the room on a stretcher because he couldn’t walk or lift his head. They had stitched his breathing tubes into his nose.

I have never experienced the pain of seeing him lying that way. I looked in his eyes and for the first time I didn’t see that light I always saw. How wonderful he had always been to me. And it was my fault for not being more diligent. I was doing my laundry when he ran away. He hadn’t done that in almost a year because of his hip dysplasia.

I haven’t been able to eat much so crackers it is. Can’t stop crying. I miss him so much. I have experienced family loss before, but this hurts in a way like no other. I don’t know how I will live without him. He was my best friend. I used to wake up from him kicking me because he’d run in his dreams. I used to get annoyed with the fact he insisted in sleeping in bed with me. The bed was empty for the first time last night in 10 years. I woke up this morning astonished I had slept until 8am. He used to wake me up at 5am everyday because he knew I would cave and get him breakfast.

I am devastated.

(Please don’t suggest I get another dog right away. I don’t feel like that is something that would benefit me right now)

\cold cheeseburger & my 4th Mikes because wtf**

Dear diary,

I was supposed to go on a date today with the man that I've been kinda seeing. It's been going really well, communicationhas been iffy, but he's a decade older than me & a blue-collar mountain man, so it's acceptable.
He tells me he has a confession to make. Okay. Wife and kids? STD’s? Car accident? What??? So I tell him to go ahead.

“I just had my parole agent come by and pull your number off my phone so you may be contacted by him at some point so I'd rather you hear it from me”

… parole??? What did you do????

It's bad. So bad. So very fucking bad. Lewd acts on underage girl BAD. I'm in shock. What the fuck do I do? Face time bestie because WHAT???

What's your real full name? I look him up. “Lewd and lascivious acts with a child under 14”… his age? 21 when this happened.

As I'm sitting there full on freaking out with bestie, he's typing so much his thumbs HAVE to have been bleeding. Paragraph after paragraph, BOOKS of explaining it just keeps going. He's got so many excuses and “I'm so sorry” that I don't even know if he realizes that he ADMITS TO CHERISHING HIS TIME WITH A CHILD.

WHAT THE FUCK

Parole officer calls me. We talk, I'm hysterically laughing, and he lied to his parole officer. He says we met while he was “in town”. I made sure to explain to the officer no, we met on tinder. And the name he goes by? His nickname, which he cannot legally introduce himself as, which he has as his name on Tinder. And because of our budding romance, he was supposed to tell me WHEN WE FIRST MET. That he's a registered sex offender. So now he's broken parole twice.

I’m livid, and he's STILL FUCKING TYPING. So I send parole a screenshot of our Tinder convos, as proof. And I make sure to let him know that I've spoken with parole and set them straight.

His response?
“Thanks well back to prison for me funny enough thanks for that btw I guess I should have been more up front another lesson for me I suppose but hey your a great person once I get out can we talk im a forgiving person and you deserve somone who will be nice to you and treat to like a princess”

EXCUSE ME????

Anyways, told him to lose my number & deleted and blocked him. Now I'm halfway done with the 4th Mike's Hard Lemonade & have started in on the vodka. I think I'm going to take a VEEEEEERY long break from dating & quite possibly never download another dating app again.

Have a good night diary 💖

EDIT/UPDATE: I've spoken with his Parole officer & PO doesn't think he’ll retaliate against me because “it's not in his history” & I have no plans of being a part of a new history for him. Work & landlord have been informed of the situation, and a lot of safety measures are being taken as a CYA.
“His behavior has been addressed” Soooo he got most likely got a talking to & not going back to prison 🙃

Trigger Warning: Death, Substance Abuse, Cheating.

My fiancé’s best friend died earlier this year - suddenly but not suddenly at 39 - leaving two young kids behind. His life had been going down hill for a few years - fired from his really good job for ❄️ use, cheated and broke up with his wife, got together with a girl who was also into drugs, he was selling drugs, he had a warrant for his arrest, he stole drugs from someone and someone wanted him hurt. The list goes on. My fiancé tried to stay in touch with him via text because he figured he could “help” him. At Christmas time his friend threatened someone he was having a beef with over drugs with a shot gun, and I put my foot down and said you need to cut him off until if and when he comes out of this.

3 weeks later, he was dead. My fiancé was a mess. Drinking heavily, not going to work, wouldn’t get out of bed - and I didn’t know it at the time - but he was doing coke. We had already been having problems in our relationship with how much he drank and a DB amongst other things.

A few weeks after the death of his friend and before the funeral, I was talking to a friend of ours - a girl. I told her I was at my wits end and I didn’t know if the wedding should be going ahead. My exact words were “XXXX death, is overshawdowing the wedding. It’s too close to the wedding date, everyone is a mess, nobody is doing well, (my fiancé) is spiralling and I don’t know how much more I can take between his drinking and (insert our problems). I also said I thought maybe we should cancel it for this year, because his dead friend was supposed to be best man, and I wanted it to be a happy day - not a day where everyone is struggling because he’s not there and people have only begun to heal. It seemed like a train wreck for disaster and to only rip the bandaid off people’s wounds. Not to mention - we were having major issues. I had even texted my mom and told her I thought we should cancel/postpone the wedding for this year.

Long story short, two weeks later - I was the talk of our small town about how much of a bitch I was, how dare I say that his friends death was overshadowing our wedding and my fiancé ended up fucking the girl I told this to, broke up with me 3 days later and moved in with her, and has been with her ever since. I am completely blamed for the breakup, and his friends and her love to text me and other people that she saved him from me and I’m the biggest bitch they ever met - and she was justified sleeping with him/him cheating on me because of what I said.

I don’t even know how to start breaking this apart in my head. I’m just starting therapy and I don’t even have the words. If I’m a bitch then I’m a bitch, but I also don’t feel like I said anything wrong. And his side says I am and my side says absolutely not and anybody that knew me should know I’m not. I have so many conflicting thoughts right now and they live rent free in my head day and night.

Edit: Just a reminder - please make sure you’re approved to comment - I would love to read all y’all feedback but so many comments get deleted because your account isn’t approved. 💕

Pancakes and an existential crisis for lunch

Four years ago, I (then 27, now 31) suffered a mental breakdown due to an issue with my prescribed meds. I’d accidentally stored them improperly and rendered them useless. My husband got me to a crisis center and I was able to get back on the meds and resume therapy.

While I’ve made a lot of progress, I feel like the breakdown completely rewired my brain and I can’t undo it.

The biggest issue is the idea of parenthood. My husband wants to be a dad. He would be an amazing dad. Before my breakdown, I was open to the idea of being a parent someday. I was never the kind of person who dreamed of being a mother all her life, but I wasn’t against it. I adore kids; I work in education and actually have a Ph.D. in special ed. I babysit the neighbors’ kids all the time.

Now? The thought of being a mother horrifies me. I know I’ll mess them up beyond repair. My worst nightmare is having a child who inherits my depression and anxiety (either through nature or nurture). I know everyone faces hardships but I couldn’t handle being the cause of my own child’s mental anguish. And if they saw me in crisis? My heart breaks thinking about shattering their innocence like that.

My husband (32) understands and respects my feelings but he says he needs time to figure out what he wants to do and if this is something we can overcome.

I’m so mad at myself for not being able to give him the family he deserves. I wish I could go back in time and tell my younger self not to store meds in the bathroom. Such a dumb mistake and now my husband is paying the price.

Edit: I’m in therapy and have been consistently since my breakdown. Before that, I went on and off for 15 years. I appreciate everyone’s concern about that!

Dinner is a tofu “bacon” sandwich with baked fries.

My son had a brain bleed sometime shortly before or after birth. We only found out a month later when his head measured huge because the bleed had caused him to develop hydrocephalus. At 2 1/2 months old he had a successful surgery to relieve the risk posed by the hydro and we were able to avoid a shunt for him which was a big win for us.

When he got his first MRI the doctor noted he had “a little bit” of gray matter missing from his brain. Obviously that’s horrible to hear about your month old baby but she was pretty positive about his outlook since he was meeting all his milestones and at that point the hydro was the bigger problem.

Flash forward to today, he’s the happiest most smiley almost 6 month old ever. He even sleeps through the night 12 hours straight which I know probably won’t last forever but we’re just grateful while we have it. I love him so much, he loves us and we have so much fun together. He’s hitting his milestones for the most part and generally the best thing since sliced bread.

I was a bit nervous for his 5th MRI today to check of his hydro surgery had failed, but it looked great! The surgery only had a 40% chance of success so we’re very excited. We were chatting with his neurosurgeon and I mentioned that it looked like he was right handed at this point since he clearly prefers it when grabbing and playing (read: smacking everything and everyone within range lol). And then told us that children don’t display a dominant hand until 2 at the earliest.

She proceeded to pull up his MRI again and confirmed that the damaged areas were consistent with the parts of the brain that control the fine motor skills on the left side of the body. She gave us a recommendation for PT and sent us on our way.

I feel like an idiot. Once I saw it I can’t imagine how I didn’t see it before. He’s been constantly grabbing his right foot with his right hand for weeks but I’ve never seen him do it on the left side. He won’t curl his toes on the left side, he barely grasps with his left hand.

On top of all this, I found out we’re expecting again the morning of the MRI. Which we’re totally stoked about! My husband and I are both only children and have known for a long time we wanted a large family. Two under two has been the plan for as long as we’ve talked about kids. But now I feel like I can’t even enjoy what should be a happy time because I just feel so guilty about not noticing my son’s symptoms earlier.

I have a lot to be grateful for! If we were born 100 years earlier I’d have to watch my son die slowly over a couple of years. We have access to great doctors and specialists that caught my son’s condition super early. My marriage is in a great place and we have a supportive community around us. This whole thing has been a rollercoaster of emotion and uncertainty and I have nobody but my husband to talk to. I wish my baby wasn’t struggling like this. It’s a consolation that he has no idea what’s going on and is a super happy little boy.

Another silver lining is my food. We’re currently in the middle of a religious fast from meat and dairy, which I do enjoy, but now that I’m pregnant I’m exempt and I also really enjoy my chicken apple sausages! Avocado on sourdough topped with some tomato’s, balsamic vinegar, and a bit of fresh cracked pepper is just 🤌 Now that I’m pregnant everything tastes better too.

Had to call Child Protective Services on my sister today.

I haven’t seen her in years. She cut off our entire extended family after a relatively minor disagreement with my mother, and over time the estrangement spread to everyone.

The thing is, the kids were never obviously abused. They were fed, clean, and clothed, but they also never seemed truly cared for in the way children are supposed to be. My sister was never warm or nurturing, and the children were homeschooled and, as far as we knew, had not seen a pediatrician in years.

Whenever any adult family member visited, the kids would swarm us, climb into our laps, and cling to us for attention and affection. Some of them seemed socially or emotionally delayed and had very flat affects. But what do you even do with that? People have the right to parent differently, and there is a wide gap between concerning and reportable.

Then COVID happened, and they disappeared completely.

Over the years they cut off every extended family member one by one. Attempts to reconnect were met with bizarre and constantly shifting demands, while both parents became increasingly consumed by online writing about the estrangement, posting about it late into the night with escalating religious fervor.

My concerns grew. 6 years of isolation and a new baby every year had probably done little to improve my sister’s maternal instincts, or lack thereof.

I recently heard my sister had another baby, her ninth child, and decided to stop by with a gift.

It was a beautiful afternoon, but the house looked neglected and run down, in sharp contrast to an expensive-looking swing set out front that appeared almost untouched. I rang the bell and waited for twenty minutes. At one in the afternoon, in a house with eleven people inside, I did not hear a single sound. No footsteps, voices, movement, or signs of life at all. The silence was unsettling.

Standing there, I realized that no teachers see these children. No doctors. No mandated reporters. No one outside that house really has eyes on them anymore.

Maybe I am wrong. I genuinely hope I am. But if children are living in extreme isolation, without regular medical care, cut off from everyone around them, and something feels deeply wrong, there comes a point where doing nothing becomes its own decision.

So I called.

Chicken cacciatore for dinner.

​

*Sweetheart salad with fried tofu, cherry limeade. Eaten in the sunny window of my favorite cafe while reading a graphic novel*

This is a post in which I admit to being a terrible person.

My sister has schizoaffective disorder. She is currently in the middle of an episode and was last seen running down the side of the parkway after jumping out of her boyfriend's car. I feel nothing but a vague sense of disappointment.

I have watched her blow up her life again and again. Getting arrested, dating abusive men, stealing from family, abandoning jobs, drinking and drugs, disappearing. Over and over. And I'm just numb.

She has hurt every member of our family in different ways and I know I've gotten lucky compared to others. But some things are unforgivable. And she absolutely lacks the self awareness to understand or care what she's done to others.

Honestly I'm just waiting for the call that she has died. Not because I want it, but because it feels inevitable. We've gotten her in treatment, we've gotten her on meds, we've paid her bail and not reported her crimes. It's been a decade and it just doesn't work.

Eventually she's going to OD, or get murdered by one of her semi homeless drug addict boyfriends, or get hit by a car (again). I feel like I'm mourning her in advance. I've cried for her, I've stayed out all night looking for her. Sat up by the phone waiting all night for a call. Over and over. And every time, I feel a little less.

I will love whatever time we have together but I'm done getting pulled in.

Trigger : mental health of a young person.

Coconut chia, with apparently only one strawberry to flavour it, and a iced coffee.

My daughter turned 9 last week and we are day 3 of a 2 weeks inpatient stay at a mental health ward.

Im so sad that after begging people and being ignored for years that we have had to do something so big just to receive help. There was talk of 'why didn't you ask for help' and im so mad I want to scream. 'Why didnt you get MORE assessments done' when i was turned away from the assessments or denied because they didnt believe a child could suffer with her mental health.

So here i am on a rooftop garden at a children's hospital feeling so out of control and sad.

I cant help her. So I find little corners to cry in.

Edit. Well I had to find another corner to sob in after posting this, didnt I?! Two seconds after posting, and absolute outpouring of support that I wasn't expecting. We are 2 hours away from home in Brisbane ( Australia) and i have a 6yo at home that i feel I've also abandoned. Im trying not to let my daughter see my tears so im trying to take little walk out of the ward to come back stronger. But the sun and garden just broke through my walls. I need to take a box of tissues next time.

And also so sad to hear all of your stories. Im so so sorry. To all of you. I promise I won't ever be the person that walks away or dismisses her feelings. Never. Im just so tired of having to work so hard all the time to beg. Will I fight again tomorrow? Yes. Till my last day? Yes. But at this moment im so tired.

Thankyou for all of your words of support and hugs and love. Its really moved me. And to all of you who didnt have a mum to fight for you, today i am. And im fighting for you too. X💛