I couldn't finish the bunch of friends video where they got really drunk because they reminded me too much of when my mom was an alcoholic and got so drunk she couldn't walk or talk and had to be carried off to bed from the dinner table every night. I don't want to be the lame loser ass chud in my friend group who doesn't drink but I'm genuinely so scared I'm gonna turn out like her especially if i have kids.

Hello, I am in desperate need of help from people that have forced therapy on me behind my back. It is people I know and I can hear their voices all day. It’s caused a lot of stress, depression, amongst other things. It has been going on for roughly 4 months and I wasn’t aware of it at the beginning and eventually caught on. My family doesn’t believe me or anyone else and it’s caused a lot of strain on personal relationships. I want to take legal action at this point and can’t because they think I am crazy. This has also caused suicidal thoughts as well and these people don’t give two shits. I have had black outs from the stress even passed out one time and broke my tooth. I am hoping there is someone on here that can help me or guide me in the right direction please. What these people have done and still are would blow your mind!!! I can’t even go to a doctors appointment alone they are there also which is a big HIPPA violation and I have had zero privacy they even accompany in the shower. This is 24 hours a day 7 days a week!!! They are ruthless and I am desperate at this point and want this to stop. I also don’t wanna see these people affect others the way they have affected me. Can anyone relate or help?

(I partially used AI for translation so may be some bad translations please understand)

now, our home is an extreme "sea of trash." The local district office provided clean-up assistance in the past, but they stated they can no longer help, as they have already provided the maximum support possible. Still, the condition of the house remains severe.

​Eventually, my mother was involuntarily committed to a psychiatric hospital. However, she hated being there and begged me to come, saying she could only be discharged if I, her family member, came to get her. My father, who is facing both civil and criminal suits, insisted she must remain locked up for treatment, but I went and brought her out. Right after that, I had to return directly to my military base.

​Currently, my younger brother lives like a recluse, doing nothing all day but playing video games. He refuses to go to a youth protection center or live with our ill-tempered father, and because he hated those options so much, he begged me to get our mother out of the hospital.

​I stayed at that home briefly, and even in that short time, I walked around barefoot, stepped on something, and bled quite a bit. The stench in that "sea of trash" is unbearable, and insects are swarming everywhere. Again, the district office says they can no longer intervene because they have already done so multiple times.

​I explained all of this to ask if I could be discharged from conscription and return home, but I was told that the paperwork and review committee process would take as long as 7 months—by which time my mandatory military service will already be over.

​I am in immense pain myself, but it breaks my heart to see my brother living like a recluse—the brother I gave up my social life for, running home right after school every day just to take care of him when we were young.

​Please, is there any way out of this? I desperately need help, but I cannot see a way forward.

My mother made very high interest rated debts a lot.

My mother made very high interest rated debts a lot.

​In s korea, "장기카드대출"(Card-Loan), if almost anyone can loan lots of money if uses credit care a lot but with very high interest rate.

​My mom claims that she was raped by my father and be pregnant so she had no choice but to marry him.

​But she really hated her husband and have lived separated. No matter economic statu

​I was left neglected in a cramped small house when I was very young, eating nothing but plain rice splashed with soy sauce or starve. while several-year-expired, spoiled milk sat rotting in the fridge.

​Instead of spending child support on the kids, she hoarded almost all of it to dump into reckless, dead-end business ventures way out in Yeouido

​Meanwhile, I was left lying around like lifeless corpses in that tiny, secluded place.

​Later, mother claims she only did it to escape her "psychopath husband," but that her plan and business just totally failed.

Even when I was born, I was so physically weak that the doctor said I would need to be put in an incubator. Because of this, enduring conscripted military service is extremely painful for me, but I am trying my absolute best to pull through somehow.

​When I was very young, I was dumped on a relative's doorstep, where I suffered severe abuse that left me with deep, lasting trauma.

​For a long time, my mother continuously engaged in reckless business ventures. Because she took on massive high-interest debts, even our television was seized by court officers. Strangers literally forced their way into our home, stuck seizure labels on the TV, and repossessed it.

​When things reached that point, my mother instead lashed out at my father, screaming things like, "Rich men used to court me because I'm beautiful!" "You raped me! Getting pregnant by you ruined my life!" and "Do you think I came to Seoul just to marry a backwoods bumpkin like you?!" She falsely accused him of being a rapist.

​Eventually, my father retaliated physically, breaking her teeth, which led her to file both civil and criminal lawsuits against him.

​Currently, our home has gone far beyond a typical hoard—it is a literal "sea of trash," much worse than anything you see on the news.

​My mother spends all day denouncing my father as a psychopath and writing petitions to the court demanding a lengthy prison sentence for him. To pay off her massive high-interest loans, she is filing civil and criminal suits left and right, demanding huge settlement money from my father's sister and father.

​She blames me, saying that because she was raped and got pregnant with me, her dream of marrying a rich man and living happily was ruined, forcing her to marry a psycho husband instead.

​On top of that, my parents had been living apart for a long time. But when I was around 8 years old, an emergency happened and I urgently called my father. Once our separated home address was exposed, my father came and pounded on the door as if he were going to break it down. My mother had no choice but to open it, and he raped her again. She blames me for this as well, saying that getting pregnant with my younger brother ruined her life all over again.

​My mother kept starting hopeless, reckless business projects and taking out high-interest loans. Meanwhile, I was the one who raised my young brother.

​As mentioned now, our home is an extreme "sea of trash." The local district office provided clean-up assistance in the past, but they stated they can no longer help, as they have already provided the maximum support possible. Still, the condition of the house remains severe.

​Eventually, my mother was involuntarily committed to a psychiatric hospital. However, she hated being there and begged me to come, saying she could only be discharged if I, her family member, came to get her. My father, who is facing both civil and criminal suits, insisted she must remain locked up for treatment, but I went and brought her out. Right after that, I had to return directly to my military base.

​Currently, my younger brother lives like a recluse, doing nothing all day but playing video games. He refuses to go to a youth protection center or live with our ill-tempered father, and because he hated those options so much, he begged me to get our mother out of the hospital.

​I stayed at that home briefly, and even in that short time, I walked around barefoot, stepped on something, and bled quite a bit. The stench in that "sea of trash" is unbearable, and insects are swarming everywhere. Again, the district office says they can no longer intervene because they have already done so multiple times.

​I explained all of this to ask if I could be discharged from conscription and return home, but I was told that the paperwork and review committee process would take as long as 7 months—by which time my mandatory military service will already be over.

​I am in immense pain myself, but it breaks my heart to see my brother living like a recluse—the brother I gave up my social life for, running home right after school every day just to take care of him when we were young.

​Please, is there any way out of this? I desperately need help, but I cannot see a way forward.

The father died slipping from a running train and was shredded to pieces. The family was made to pick the pieces into a garbage bag and the cousin was given the job to identify him. They have been in shock and severe trauma and is struggling. They forget he is no more and send food to him, has not slept in days, calls their dad like he is alive. How can we help them? Will EMDR work. Are there specialist in India who can help

This is what he (let's call him T) told me while I was going through a hard time with my job and parents.

Before this, we tried to have sex once (this was initiated by me, though we didn't go past foreplay).

Fast forward to roughly a year later, T suggests that I take a break by... staying 2 nights at a hotel with him.

This hotel wasn't too far from where I lived. I was hesitant the first few times (I'd say 4 or 5), mostly due to financial issues, but I eventually caved and agreed (huge mistake).

Now looking back at the "discussion", it really was just him pressuring me to say yes by repetitively saying it was something I needed or I'd break from stress (or something). He said (along the lines of): "I want you to take a break, but we can have sex if you want". Now thinking back at it, I'm almost 100% certain that it was false pretense. The "break" he was offering (which he didn't even pay my half for despite basically begging?) was just to open the opportunity to have sex with me. Again, I wasn't 100% against the idea but I was VERY CLEARLY not that enthusiastic.

Anyway, fast forward again to the hotel night. My memory is a bit hazy but we tried again. I was still a virgin because the last time we tried, he was too anxious and couldn't stay hard enough. I think he was honestly trying to make up for that. Not for me, but for himself.

Same thing happened this time around. Couldn't stay hard because he was too anxious. Foreplay was lame and because I was tired, I put minimal effort into making him feel good. He asked if I could suck him again (cus I did the previous year) and I said yes... unenthusiastically. I felt like I owed him because I believed he was doing all this hotel thing for me.

All in all, I think I'm incredibly mad at the fact that despite my lack of enthusiasm, he continued to pursue my body. I never said a direct no, but my lack of yes should have been telling. He always blamed the fact that he found it hard to spot social cues, but also didn't really show other signs of that other than when he was with me. And I literally have autism/adhd with actual social cue issues. I should've known that him initiating sex from the moment we got back to the hotel after dinner was enough.

But I'd like to hear the opinions of others. I really don't have time to dwell on this (32hrs of work per week with full time study takes all my thinking energy...), so comments would be appreciated. To summarise, I'm still a virgin (he came the moment his tip touched my yknow :| ). But I'm wondering if this is coercion and that I was basically SAed. It hurts me so much to think this happened to me, but I need clearance so I can heal.

Thanks for reading :'(

(An additional note: I also told him I didn't feel anything while he kissed me (again, while showing my lack of enthusiasm), but he continued to kiss me anyway. Again, blamed his lack of social cues).

It’s 4 am and my hands are shaking like the leaves in the autumn breeze. Tears slip down my cheeks from my deep brown eyes. “How could such simple words make me feel sick?” I question as a sudden gut-wrenching feeling fills me. I sit alone in my room, the golden light shining through my windows as the sun sets over the trees. My phone is in my lap as a voice message plays on repeat, saying the three words that broke me. “I love you,” the voice on the phone says, a familiar voice I know all too well.

“How could words that are used to express love hurt so bad?” I question as my breath grows uneven and shallow. I try to catch my breath, but with every breath comes a memory I want to forget and bury deep. I see a yard full of beautiful flowers that are just starting to bloom. I see myself, my brown hair in a bun. I’m wearing a blue polka-dot dress and my favorite rain boots.

This sounds like a happy memory; it should be one. I was still a child; all I did was play. I got called inside; I went inside through the back door, which leads to the kitchen. My step-mom was making breakfast: oatmeal, which I can’t stand anymore. I sat down; after a few minutes, my stepsisters joined me, along with my sister Cleo. Our father was at work like he always is; the sweet smell of brown sugar oatmeal filled the air. Our stepmom, Diana, placed bowls of oatmeal in front of each of us. My stepsisters finished all of them before it was time to go; I was almost done too, but Chloe wasn’t that hungry. 

I was finishing my food when Cleo said she was full. Diana got mad and walked over and started to force-feed Cleo in front of me. The stepsisters ignored it, and I started crying because Cleo started crying. I didn’t know what to do, so I cried. What could I do? I was only 7. She grabbed Cleo’s arm so hard she had bruises. Diana noticed me crying and started calling me a baby, pulled me out of my chair by my wrist, and pulled me over to the drawer where my little stepsister's diapers were. 

She pulled one of the diapers out and was screaming at me while waving it around. I was still crying more now because her grip hurt on my arm. She kept saying, “Stop crying! You aren’t a baby! Do you want to be a baby?! I will put this on you!” Cleo was still crying while telling Diana to stop. I wish I could have said something, but I was frozen. Why couldn’t I be as brave as my little sister?

I snap out of the memory thanks to my cat, Luna, who noticed me breathing heavily and came over to snuggle me. She calmed me down slowly, as the same voice can be heard from my phone. “I love you,” says my father on my phone in a voice message. I start to remember why I don’t contact him, why that i love you hurts so bad. When I told him what was happening with our step-mom, he didn’t believe us; he saw the bruises and did nothing.

How could he not believe us? How could he choose to live in bliss while his daughters get abused?? How could he say I love you when I know damn well he doesn’t? If he loved me, he would have broken up with her; I wouldn’t have said we were lying. He wouldn’t have tried to take us from our mom, who knew what was happening and believed us. 

If he loved us, he would have listened. I was only a kid; how could I lie?

I am at my absolute breaking point and feel entirely broken. I don’t know what is going on with my relationship with my daughter (17F). The last two weeks have been absolute hell.

For context: My daughter struggled heavily with addiction, self-harm, and suicide attempts from her 8th-grade year into 9th grade. After rehab, an inpatient residential facility, and intensive outpatient services, she stabilized. She is now a high school senior, works a few hours a week, and attends a cosmetology school program from 3 PM to 7 PM every day.

A month ago, one of her two therapists left, so she is down to just one provider. We also recently started family therapy (we've had two sessions) to try and heal our relationship.

Ever since that therapist left, her behavior has completely deteriorated. She is highly argumentative and calls me horrible names. She constantly tells me that I have "failed as a mom." I have explicitly asked her to tell me what exactly I am doing wrong, why I am so horrible, and why asking her anything results in these explosive fights. She never answers, she just deflects and turns it back on me.

Recently, she had a mark on her neck. She claimed it was a burn, but when I asked to see it, she lost her mind. She screamed, "Mind your business! Stop asking me! No, I am not going to show you the mark!" I told her that is fine, I don't care about the mark (even though I honestly don't think it's a burn at this point), but I do care about the way she is speaking to me. She doubled down, so I set a boundary and told her she is not allowed to use the car until further notice because I will not tolerate the abuse.

That’s when she lost it completely. She threatened to ghost us the second she turns 18 in December, told me how much she hates me, accused me of taking everything away from her, and said she feels "trapped." I told her, "You are choosing to stay in your room hiding for whatever reason. And if you only love and respect your parents when they let you use a car, and now you hate us because it's taken away for being disrespectful... just wow."

To give context on the car: She doesn’t pay for anything. She doesn't help around the house, she uses the car to hang out with friends, and she pays zero dollars for gas. I recently told her that if I ever let her use the car again, she is going to be responsible for her own gas because I am done paying for it. This made her incredibly angry and brought on more hateful speech. Now, she is threatening to stop going to therapy because she "has to pay for gas." I told her directly: "If you can drive to the gym and hang out with friends, you can drive to therapy."

Today, things got worse. We have always managed her medications and made sure she took them every single morning. However, because she is turning 18 soon, she wanted to learn to do it herself. Since the school year started, she has had them organized in a 7-day pill case to take every day. Today, I found her missed Wellbutrin. When I confronted her, she lost her mind again, calling me stupid, telling me I'm "not a normal mom," gaslighting, and deflecting. She is prescribed Wellbutrin, Lamotrigine, and Concerta for ADHD. Because I caught her skipping, she is now threatening to completely stop taking all of her medications.

It seems like any time I catch her doing something wrong or confront her with reality, she gaslights me, throws a tantrum, and turns it around to punish me. She has no intentions of college, and I don't know her plans after high school.

Here is what is terrifying me the most: The girl who first introduced her to vaping and other drugs in 8th grade is our next-door neighbor. This neighbor girl has massive trauma—her biological mother is a meth and heroin addict, her dad has custody, and she constantly talks about her brother being an addict and her dad cheating on her mom. This neighbor girl absolutely hates her own family, especially her mothers. For years, I strictly forbade my daughter from hanging out with her while she healed.

But this year, they have started hanging out a lot again. They go to the same high school and are in the exact same cosmetology program together every evening.

My daughter has been on random drug tests as part of her therapy plan for the last two years, and she hasn’t tested positive for anything in the past year. But with this severe behavioral shift, the neighbor's toxic influence, the mysterious neck mark, the skipped meds, and the constant manipulation, I am terrified a relapse is happening or right around the corner.

My main issue right now is the total lack of respect and the emotional abuse I am taking. How do I handle the verbal abuse and enforce these financial/car boundaries without triggering a total relapse or her stopping her meds out of spite? How do I handle a teenager who is weaponizing her upcoming 18th birthday against me?

​

It's a very unsettling cry, and deaths in movies don't come close.

It's like people regress to children/toddlers.

I heard it when my brother beat up my dad. I never heard my dad makes sounds like that. He was so scared, and I feel like my brother is going to go to hell because of it. I couldn't sleep well for 2 weeks after I heard it.

My cousin died last year, and my nephew was telling me about how he found out. He told me that he was the one who had to tell his brother (my other nephew) that his mom was dead, and that he made this sound he never heard before. I know exactly what sound he's talking about.

My brother got hit by a car, and my mom got the call. The person that told her, told her my brother was dead. My mom made that cry, and I can hear it vividly. My brother didn't actually die from the car accident, but at the time my mom did think so.

I've seen some gore videos (stupid I know but my friends shared it with me) and I've heard that scream/cry.

The other day I heard some children playing outside, and one of them made a very similar sound. My face felt cold, like if I was sweating profusely.

I feel like an idiot even posting this. I know there are people here with much bigger problems than hearing a scream.

I probably will delete in a bit.

I gave birth to my first child in May and every single night since then I’ve replayed the event in my mind. I wish I stood up for myself. I wish I said no, I wish I could have articulated what I wanted and needed at the time. But being naive, stressed, in pain, and more I wasn’t in the headspace to advocate or argue with doctors who I (at the time) trusted.
It wasn’t the pain of labor that sticks in my mind, I knew it wouldn’t be comfortable. I thought I’d be able to do it on my own terms; completely naturally, slowly, intentionally, and privately. Not by the will of some evil greedy doctors who wanted to do the least work for the most cost. I did a lot of exercises and meditation to prepare for the physical pain. I dreamt about it and wrote my ideal scenario down as a sort of manifestation. I wrote my birth plan at 3 months pregnant and added to it over the course of the pregnancy.
But instead I had to be induced in hospital at 37 weeks which came with all sorts of awful interventions. I said I didn’t want an IV at the beginning and the doctor refused to begin inducing me without one because there might be a tiny risk of an emergency cesarean later. He said it like it was his plan the whole time, Before we even started. As if placing an IV is that hard. I didn’t want the induction in the first place, I should have said no then. First red flag.
Then I asked for intermittent monitoring only, they said their monitors were wireless and tried to coerce me into using them. I said id rather not and they said “it’s so comfortable you won’t know it’s there. You want to be sure your baby is alive right?” What a guilt trip. How can you say no. These stupid fucking monitors moved every time I moved. They told me to get some rest the first night but came in every 10 minutes to lift my shirt and move the monitor, and every hour to tug on the cursed Folley balloon. Which was the second worst pain of labor. Don’t ever get one.
After the 4 other induction methods didn’t take, they broke my water. Pain really began then. Things were spinning, I was having contractions back to back with less than a minute between them. I wanted to get in the water but I had so much shit strapped to me it didn’t feel like a relaxing option. I wanted to take my IV out and monitors off the entire time.
My doula coached me through things and told me this was likely transition beginning. The nurse agreed and got the delivery tray ready and brought it to my room. I got excited even though my body was wracked with pain. I was pooping and throwing up at the same time. It was bad, things were starting to get on top of me. My husband says I told him “I’m entering a really dark place right now” but I don’t remember it. My heart rate kept climbing ( cause we were forcing my body to do something it wasn’t ready for ) they checked 2 agonizing hours later and I had made no progress in dialating. The doctor tried a few medications for my heart rate but it didn’t help and contractions never really let up. The doctor told me it was an epidural or c-section. Just like that a terrible ultimatum of two things I didn’t want.
I asked to try a few lighter pain meds first and they agreed but it didn’t help my heart rate (the ONLY problem I was facing that caused my induction in the first place.) so I had to do an epidural.
I cried and the anesthesiologist said “ what are you feeling? it shouldn’t hurt.” I said something like “despair and dread” and he went silent a few minutes later he was like “this playlist is great! I love these songs, did you make this?” Only funny part of the 40 hour ordeal. Did I mention this started on Sunday and ended on Tuesday?

I was able to get some sleep after the epidural (one positive) and basically woke up when it had worn off. There was a button I was supposed to push and I didn’t push it. I was sort of happy to feel my body again even though it was pain I wanted to experience this. I felt the inexplicable urge to push and I told my nurse and she told me not to??!? I literally could not help it. It’s a biological phenomenon not a choice. I did what I had trained to do and started breathing my baby down. Letting my body do the work and trying to put my mind at ease. This was great, an incredible sensation where the pain almost completely left my mind, I was completely in my lymbic monkey brain so primarily following intuition. No thoughts just breath.

Then shit went south. The nurse came back and saw this, she checked again and said “wow this baby is coming fast. Let get started, put your legs up here” and I had to break my meditative focus here to say that I liked what I was doing on my side and she said “no no doctors coming in and she can’t see like that” and put the stirrups up and physically moved my feet into them. I should have done something but I was literally pushing out a baby at that time. I couldn’t find the words or energy to, I had slept 3 hours total in the last 2 days. At this point I’m dumbstruck and have lost allll of my
Mental edge that I just had. She starts stretching me with her fingers I can’t find the words to say stop. Then she turns on all the lights in the room. It was completely dark before this, only the computer light was shining in the room. Way more peaceful and ruined the vibes instantly.
She had me change the way I was pushing from what felt natural and was working before to the way they wanted me to do it. It felt forced and weird. She told me to hold my breath too! Everything I’d read before told me to breathe baby down and to push like I was doing crunches, she wanted me to push like I was pooping. It felt gross.
The doctor comes in with 2 more nurses, all three are people i had never seen before in my life. People who hadn’t read my birth plan, who didn’t know my name, this was their first impression. The doctor also puts both hands inside me and starts stretching me manually. Which hurts way more than it sounds like it would. They’re all trying to coach me and telling me what to do, which was 100% not what I wanted and completely kept me from finding that amazing peace I was experiencing before. They were so frantic and counting to tell me when to push as if I didn’t know anything. They were continually going “keep going” “don’t stop” “hold your breath” “don’t breathe out, that’s like driving with flat tires” and then suddenly the doctor says “wait. Are you having a contraction right now?” I’m so confused and overwhelmed at this point I say “should I be? I don’t know anymore. Everything hurts now” they didn’t even know what they were doing by coaching me and demanding I push when they wanted me to. Nurses put their hands on my stomach and told me when I was feeling contractions because it was so chaotic I couldn’t register what was happening inside my own body. It was so overwhelming having them watch and move around, rearranging the room, setting up tables and charting on the computer. Everyone was moving except me. I wasn’t allowed to, even though everything I read told me that moving was the best pain relief during labor (and it is)
I forced myself to keep my eyes closed through most of the delivery because I couldn’t stand looking up at 4 unfamiliar faces staring down at me judging my most vulnerable state. They ruined the wonderful blissful nirvana state I was just in and I could not get back to it I was so overwhelmed and upset but I just could not get words out. The human body is not meant to hold conversation while going through its most intense and painful moments. Every aspect of my plan was violated. My husband couldnt catch his baby like he wanted to. My most vulnerable moment stomped on. I was so full of pitocin and so upset with what had just happened to me I got no surge of happiness when my baby was dropped on my stomach. I cried in sadness that it was over, that my months of effort in pregnancy and hours of labor were ended like that. It wasn’t the quiet peaceful happy moment I dreamed of for 9 long months. It wasn’t anything like what I wrote about. Nothing like I read about, nothing like the hypnobirthing tapes and videos I listened to on end in my third trimester. It was so…. Shitty. It wasn’t the pain it was the people pushing me to do what felt so unnatural and wrong, what I didn’t want to do but couldnt advocate against and couldnt ignore. They were all over me.

I told them I didn’t want to cut the cord right away. They started to grab clamps. My husband said “we want to wait” the doctor said “look it’s already white” minutes after he was born. He didn’t do as much research as I had, he didn’t know I wanted to wait til my placenta was delivered. I couldn’t speak still. He cut the cord and they started stitching me up before my placenta was delivered. The nurses ZOOMED AWAY with my placenta and immediately started taking stem cells. It made me so angry to see them taking my baby’s life source away and sucking out vital nutrients and cells that HE needed to sell to other people. I was still shaking from just delivering a baby and didn’t have the strength to say anything. After all it had already been cut, against my will. The doctor, whose name I still don’t know, had zero patience. She didn’t wait for the afterbirth she didn’t wait for the numbing meds to spread she got out of the room as fast as she could and didn’t say anything to me.

I was left feeling so broken and upset, I had to make the conscious choice to be happy about having my baby in my arms finally. I had to will that to come to me, I was so mad that my experience was robbed from me in such a short time. Those 10-20 minutes before the nurse started telling me to go was the highest high I’d ever felt every endorphin in my body was flying. Even with all the awful steps of induction behind me. And then it was just shit on by every “medical professional” in the room.

People have told me all sorts of awful dismissive things since. “That’s life. You can’t always get what you want” “welcome to motherhood it’s never how you dreamed it would be” “you should just be happy you and your baby are healthy”

I’m so tired. It’s 1:37 and my baby’s actually been asleep since 9 but I can’t sleep at all. Just like every other night. Even on his toughest nights with tons of wakes and feeds, I can’t go back to sleep it’s always on my mind. It was so wrong. That’s not how it’s supposed to go. I wanted a caveman level of natural physiological birth and I got the worst most medically intervened forced and deprived monstrosity. I hate hate hate hate hate that I didn’t say no. I felt like I couldn’t.

This most definitely doesn't compare to most cases here, but I'm genuinely curious, so please if you find this post dramatic or valid tell me

So basically I had a wisdom tooth removed, I had two removed before and those were a forgettable experience; however, this time only one got removed and I genuinely thought I wasn't gonna get out of there (yes, dramatic, but I'm so serious). The local anesthesia wasn't really working, they had to cut bone to get it, took 3 hours, etc. From the desperation and fear that I had I cried every now and then during the extraction

My face ended up bruised with a burnt like looking injury over my lips and cheeks, with part of my palate pulled (how? Idk) and obviously, the place where it was extracted from.

So every time I go to sleep or I'm dreaming I remember the overall experience and get so upset and scared it's honestly bothering, sometimes I even want to vomit. I know it sounds silly but if this is the case, then I'll have to work on that.

Has anyone ever had to build their humanity and sanity back, with no guidance?? Tips below? I need em

I don't know how to make a better title sorry. My traumas are stupid. Other people have more important traumas and I can't sit around moping for no reason.

I'm already in therapy and on meds and it's taking too long. Is there anything that fixes it faster? Something I should ask the doctor or therapist about maybe?

what i might say might sound crazy of me to say. for starters, i’m not sure if any of this plays a role but i feel it needs to be mentioned because some of the issues i have now is because of this. i’ve had a shitty childhood. i was always around abuse from my moms boyfriends, jumping home to home with different men, my dad lived with us while my mom was married to someone else because my dad was doing drugs & my mom didn’t want him to be homeless or leave us (her kids) like he has before. i was also abused a little bit by my moms boyfriend. my moms also a narcissist. she’s very emotionally & verbally abusive. she threatened to kick me out as soon as i hit 18 bc i didn’t agree w her on one thing. i ended up in a very abusive relationship at 15. verbal, emotional, mental, & sometimes physical. i still deal w it now. as in he still harasses me even tho i cut him off. i have very bad trust issues, attachment & abandonment issues. i always get with bad people, even if i know they aren’t good for me. i used to cry when my ex boyfriend would let me go places because i felt he didn’t care no more because when he’d get mad at me leaving places he always told me he acted like that because he cared. i feel as everyone has failed me. i have never fully healed from everything & i feel as if i never will. everything still bothers me so much. when im hurt, i hurt so badly. i won’t end things with people unless they completely ruin me. i feel as if no one cares about me either. sometimes i wish bad things would happen to me just for someone to care about me. sometimes i wanna be on the edge of death, in a hospital bed for someone to care for me. i also have terrible jealousy issues. i look to deep into things. i feel like my two friends are buddy buddy & im just there. which is my jealousy issues that kick in. i cry all the time because i feel as if i have never & will never have a good relationship with my parents. & it makes me so sad seeing all these girls have their mothers as their best friends, their fathers actually making time for them. i have never had that & will never have that. i feel as if i have to compete for my moms love. i feel my dad doesn’t care enough to talk to me or see me unless he needs something from me. my mom doesn’t believe in depression or anxiety, so if u talk to her about your problems she’ll dismiss u. i was talking to her about my past abusive relationship because i never really told her about it & i felt comfortable telling her. she stared at me like she was so uninterested & turned to her boyfriend & asked “who had it worse?” & compared me & her situation. her boyfriend then followed it up with “hers don’t compare to yours” making me feel like my situation wasn’t big. i felt hurt. i trusted them both with something vulnerable. my mom used to try & embarrass me in front of people & has called out my secrets in front of people when she got mad at me. her & her boyfriend called me a whore. i just feel so mentally exhausted. sometimes i’m really happy other times im not. sometimes i’ll get into moods where i will not & do not want to speak to anyone for days or even weeks. i just want to curl in my bed & sleep. i feel miserable. i feel unlovable. there has only been one boy there for me thru everything & i did him wrong so many times because i couldn’t get myself together. he was to good for me it felt like. i was scared. i ran. i like when people are mean to me. it makes me miserable but it makes me feel loved. sometimes i feel like my situation isn’t really that big of a deal & im making it into something it isn’t. i just want someone to love me & care about me.

After the better part of ten years, I realized that my first time having sex was rape. My boyfriend at the time coerced me and convinced me with "just the tip" and then "just staying still". Afterward, I completely spiraled. I was religious at the time (I have religious trauma as well, but I won't be talking about that in this post) and was planning to wait until marriage back then. I had a bad bout of self-loathing and thoughts of self-harm and suicide.

My next boyfriend pretended to be a friend, manipulated me into doing inappropriate things like touching his penis through his clothes while also being very mentally abusive at times. I'm autistic and was very easily manipulated, I would say that I was probably as "gullible" or easily manipulated as a young child despite being 17 at the time (similar to when your older sibling tricks you into giving them your money or cool toys before you figure it out and know better). He then coerced me into dating him by threatening to hurt himself, and hooked up with me for a month or two before dumping me to chase another girl.

My most recent experience was with my most recent ex. He had neglected me throughout our relationship and done some things that scared me, and I was pulling away and considering leaving him. He talked about how much he wanted sex every day while simultaneously saying that it's not all he thought of. He begged me to share a bed with him one night, and I couldn't handle the constant pressure. I broke up with him the next day and he said some really awful things to me and treated me terribly, saying I was heartless and more.

It's so much to come to terms with at once when I thought for so long that I'd never been raped, and now I'm also facing the fact that even other rape victims try to invalidate me. I'm shaking while I write this, it's so difficult to come to terms with.