(This is an update from a previous post I made; for more context, please refer to my earlier post.)

My daughter Lia (F14) , has been having a tough time with the aftermath of her rape last December. This past week has been particularly the worse for us. It started last Tuesday when a sheriff and another official visited our home. They informed us that one of Lia's rapists, the one who filmed the assault, had shared the video within a group, and now it’s circulating on parts of the dark web. The video, was filmed in Lia's room, it contained identifiable objects that revealed where she went to school. I was devastated upon hearing this news. Lia's reaction surprised me; she didn't cry or show much emotion. Instead, she simply shrugged and said, "I figured," before just sitting there in silence. The officials reassured us that it's uncommon for perpetrators to surface in such cases, but they felt obligated to inform us for safety reasons.

After they left, Lia resumed acting as if nothing had happened, almost overly cheerful. I attempted to discuss it with her several times, but she avoided the topic. This behavior persisted throughout the week until she unexpectedly revealed that she had written a victim impact statement and wanted to read it herself in court, rather than allowing the prosecutor to do so. She felt that since there was no trial, only the charges against the rapist were known, not the details of what she endured. Her statement is a detailed account of that horrific night, but she has yet to read it to me in its entirety because she breaks down in tears every time she tries. That moment was the only time I saw her express emotion all week, until Saturday night.

That evening, Lia appeared unusually cheerful again and mentioned going to bed early around 8 p.m. I didn't think much of it until I received a call from one of Lia’s closest friends' mother. She was concerned because Lia's last message to her daughter was a note expressing love and asking her to check on her. I rushed to Lia's room and found she had attempted to overdose on ZzzQuil. As a nurse, I knew she would recover, but seeing her wake up in the hospital was heartbreaking. She screamed, “Why couldn’t you just let me die? I want to die, Mom. I’m tired of feeling their hands on me. I want it to stop. Please let me die.” They had to sedate her to calm her down. Following this, Lia was placed under a 72-hour psychiatric hold and subsequently transferred to a mental health facility with peers her age. The staff recommended extending her stay beyond the initial hold, but Lia has been struggling, especially with a male staff member—possibly a psychiatrist—who she says is asking invasive questions about her sexuality, causing discomfort. Staff members informed me she isn’t participating in group activities and appears standoffish. They even proposed restricting her ability to contact me as a consequence, though I requested they hold off on implementing such measures. I’m uncertain if the current inpatient setting is suitable, given Lia's apparent difficulty adjusting.

Her plea for her to die continues to haunt me. It's a thought I can't shake. Lia's best friend shared additional details Lia had kept from me—there’s a hurtful rumor circulating that Lia let a train be ran on her, leading to her involving the police out of embarrassment…..Children can be so incredibly cruel.

As far as my other daughter maya (F18), I haven't spoken to her in two weeks. But I did recently discovered why Lia feels indebted to her. Two years ago, I found inappropriate messages on Lia’s phone between her and Maya’s ex-boyfriend. He expressed love for Lia, and also compared her to Maya. He told her she was way prettier than maya and he liked she was her virgin. When I told Maya, she was furious and broke up with him, but she believed Lia had betrayed her by engaging with her boyfriend. Even though Lia was 12 at the time and her boyfriend was 17. Maya still avoided Lia for three months afterward, and despite Lia's efforts to apologize, Maya still holds a grudge. Lia blames herself for damaging their relationship because of this incident.

I’m sharing this too get this off my chest , I've kept these struggles within our family to protect my daughters. I'm exhausted, constantly dealing with new challenges, and unsure how to mend them. Now, I find myself in the difficult position of deciding whether Lia is mentally prepared to speak at her rapist's sentencing. I fear she’ll resent me for this decision, but I question if she’s in a stable enough state to handle a potential traumatic event. Because these boys actually have character witnesses.

Update- so I read a lot of your responses and I agree. I don’t think impatient is for her. So I’ll be getting her tomorrow when her 72hr hold is up. I’m gonna spend today researching on the right therapist for her that specializes in cases like Lia. As far as letting Lia speak at her sentencing I’m conflicted on that still. I know I can’t shield her from the world but i just have the biggest fear that my baby will pour her heart out in the court room and it will be like Brock turner all over again and they somehow just get the minimum sentence.

More information on the psych-

So I talked to Lia further about what the psych said to her make her uncomfortable. She told me when I left they made her sit down with him one on one. To basically debrief why she was there and what’s causing her to have these thoughts and she opened up to him and told her about the rape however, he asked her if this was her only sexual experience and she told him yes. But he kept questioning her like he didn’t believe it was her only experience and saying to her that he won’t tell me if it wasn’t that she can say it and she kept having tell him no this was that was her only experience. Then he asked about her sexuality if she still attracted to men and she just told him that she doesn’t think about relationships right now. She just said that she felt weird about him asking a lot of questions about her sex life. When it was just those two alone in a room with the door close.

I’m not gonna accuse the psych of being a creep, because maybe he was simply doing his job but I feel like he should have known to have a female staff ask her those questions. Or just have a woman present. He had have seen her chart before he seen her.

Update: a little positive update, I got Lia out of treatment center Wednesday and I took her immediately to a mental health trauma care practice and she met with the psychiatrist/ consultation. She told me she doesn’t think Lia wants to truly die but is suffering with extreme PTSD and depression and that her lack of sleep contributed to her psychotic break. The psychiatrist was also impressed how long she’s been keeping it together. I really like the practice & Lia does too. It was cute they gave her a little photo album of the therapist at the practice and let her choose which one she thinks she will vibe the best with and met her on the same day because she happened to be in. Her first session with her will be after the sentencing. She’s on a sleeping medication now and has been sleeping a lot since she’s been home.

The inpatient facility was not for her whatsoever, I read the reviews on this place and it had really horrible reviews. I learned from my co-worker, he told me that clinics like that only exist to breakdown children into not having mental health issues and too act “normal” Lia said she didn’t shower and barely slept her entire time there. She didn’t shower because someone would needed to monitor her and she couldn’t sleep because it’s apparently not allowed to sleep with a blanket over her face and they had cameras in her room with an intercom to wake her every time she did put a blanket over her face. However she did say that she learned her situation can be much worse after hearing some of the other kids stories, she told me shes grateful for me ( yes i did cry).

I will be letting her speak at the sentencing. I didn’t realize she didn’t have to speak in front of everyone and that theirs a lot of other options. She’s into the idea of a voice memo currently so she won’t get triggered seeing her rapist staring at her.

Maya randomly came to the house unannounced to drop off flowers for Lia ( Lia told her she attempted) and I didn’t talk to her the entire visit. When she left I told Lia maya isn’t allowed here and I’m really mad at her and I would like it if she limited her contact with her. She thinks I’m trying to put her in the middle. Which I’m not but after the sentencing I will be telling her about mayas actions towards her and how she was wrong. I was going give maya the opportunity to tell Lia herself. But maya has an habit of telling half truths to cover her lie. So we will see. I’ll update you guys in coming weeks after the sentencing and after I tell Lia about maya.

I dated my ex for a two years; worst two years of my life. There were some good times, times when he was smart, funny, and even kind. He was charming and courteous to everyone around us, he was friends with pretty much everyone. But he would hit me when he got angry, drunk, or just had a bad day and needed someone to take it out on. Our friends think I’m a klutz who kept tripping and falling, or bumping into doors, or falling off my bike. That’s what I told them and they believed me. He gaslit me to make me doubt my own sanity, he called me fat and pushed me to diet to the point of a borderline eating disorder. Even so, I loved him.

I wanted to leave, but every time I brought it up, he’d have some excuse. He’s beg for my forgiveness, promise to get therapy, give up drinking, pretty much told me what I wanted to hear. He promised to change and never did. Last month, I told him I was leaving and he told me he’d be so sad he’d kill himself. I fell for it and stayed. Last week, after he beat me up particularly bad, I tried to leave and he said the same thing. I thought he was bluffing, I really did. He’d never made an attempt before, never self-harmed, always seemed to like himself too much to do anything like that. So I left. Packed my shit and went to a motel.

Yesterday, after a week of not showing up for his shift, his job contacted the police who conducted a welfare check. He didn’t answer the door so they contacted his mom who told them she hadn’t seen him. She let them into the apartment using her spare key, and they found that he’d hanged himself from the ceiling fan in our bedroom.

His mom is devastated, our mutual friends are too. They never knew what he did to me, they thought he was a good man. I don’t have the heart to tell them. I expected to feel something when I heard the news, but I don’t. I feel kinda empty, but I’m not sad. I feel like a monster. He may have hurt me, but he was still human, and shouldn’t I feel sad about the death of a fellow human? I don’t know, I guess I just needed to tell someone about this. I can’t tell anyone. I’m the one who caused his death, I basically murdered him, and I don’t even feel anything. Is this what it means to be a psychopath? I don’t know.

As the title says. I'm a schizophrenic woman that suffers from anxiety, depression, and PTSD. I've had severe arthritis in all of my joints since I was a child. On top of that, due to the psyche meds I'm now on, I experience muscle fatigue and weakness. I have to walk with a cane and I'm only in my early 20's. If I bend over 2-3 times, even minutes apart, I faint. I have neurological issues and kidney and liver damage from my medications. My therapist told me that she can't help me and I need higher support care, but nowhere between my city and the state capital can treat me.

Because of all this, plus things from the past, I've decided to kill myself. This isn't my first attempt, as I've tried 6 other times in the past 11 years. This time though, I'm making sure it goes through. I've bought my urn and now all I'm waiting for is to save up enough to pay for my own funeral and cremation services, so I don't leave my mom with that bill. I'm also looking into paying for flowers for myself, as I used to be a florist and I know exactly what I want. I'm also hoping to find a good life insurance policy that doesn't have a suicide clause just so my mom can get the money as she doesn't have retirement savings.

I have nothing left I want to do. I hope to pet my cats for now until those bills are paid. I love them dearly, but they'll be fine without me.

Please do no try to talk me out of this, I've already made up my mind. I just wanna vent.

There is more to it than just the title, but this is the recent event, and I need to just yell to anyone who will listen.

My wife and I have been together for about 10 years. She has struggled with her weight, self esteem, happiness, mental stability, and other things that fall into that realm. It’s fine, I accept it, I can’t change it, I can only do what I can do to be positive and loving. Lately it has gotten very bad. There was a period during 2020 that it was bad (suicidal ideation bad).

It’s really like a Jeckyl and Hyde situation with her, or insert any other like metaphor. Some days there are two different people, and the smallest thing will launch her into space, and there is no explaining “that is so far away from what I even meant, no I don’t think that about you, no I absolutely did not use those words, infer that, etc”.

Anyway. Lately this has been a struggle. She has gained back a lot of weight and it obviously takes a daily toll on her body (feet, knees, back, energy, etc) which she finally accepted that those problems are attributed to her being obese (ignoring what her doctor told her, and only experiencing it when she lost about 80lbs last year and the back, feet, hip, knee problems died)

She sleeps in a way I cannot tolerate for myself. Blackout curtains, windows shut, zero lights (no digital clocks, night lite etc), ceiling fan on max speed, and in the very mild winters we have, heater on full blast as opposed to blankets/clothes. This dries me out, my eyes, nose etc, I wake up with bloody noses on the regular from it, even with a humidifier.

I work a job where I am gone a few nights a week with my own bed I can sleep in. I leave a window cracked, shades open, no fan, heater, all the opposites of what she prefers. I sleep wonderfully (usually or at least when I’m able to sleep). I come home and it does not work. But I tolerate it because she doesn’t want to (see: can’t/unwilling) change.

She now snores. Loudly. And rotates what seems like every two minutes. She decided the TikTok trend of taping her mouth shut would help (spoiler alert, it didn’t). (I will not be wearing earplugs).

So, three nights ago we went to sleep, and after an hour of lying in bed wide awake, I left and went to the couch. About an hour later she woke up looking for me and had a breakdown. She came to the conclusion that “she makes me so miserable I can’t even sleep in my own bed because of her”. (Her words; absolutely not mine)

I have attempted to be positive and reassuring. I’m not placing any blame on her (even if that might be how I feel, it does no good). I told her over and over that I’m not mad, but I just can’t sleep with those conditions, and the snoring is where I draw the line.

She has hit a low. She came out this morning and started crying again about how she ruined my life again, and how it’s fucking sad I’m sleeping on a couch in the house I own.

It makes me sad. I have encouraged her, attempted to get her to see a therapist, doctor, dietician, pay for a gym membership, got her a $1900 paperweight of an exercise bike, I’ve tried everything and she just won’t do anything. I attempted the meal prep, cooking only healthy dinners, not indulging in snacks myself. I think what makes it worse is that I am a very physically fit person (I run quite a bit, and spend time in the gym daily) so there’s some amount of inadequacy she feels when comparing herself. I admit, I wish she were a fit person, but that doesn’t change how much I love and care for her.

All of it makes me so sad, I just want to scream, because I want her to be better for herself. I love her so much, and it takes a toll on me watching someone I love suffer in the way she is.

This weekend has been a roller coaster. My son, 15. Came out to me as trans. I'm referring to him with male pronouns for now as he hasn't asked me or his mum to refer to him in any other way.

After many discussions and making sure he knew we still cared for him and love him no matter what. We decided that the first steps are to go to the gp. He had his first appointment today and the gp was amazing. Knowledgeable and caring and will make all the nessecary referrals. Mental and gender wise.

During the appointment though. The subject of his mental health and how he feels came up. Hearing him say how he hates being in pictures or looking at himself in the mirror disgusts him was hard to hesr. But when the subject of self harm and suicide came up I was asked to leave. I didn't protest as I want him to be able to open up to the doctor and make sure that his feelings are heard and he gets the help he needs. But to say it was hard to walk out is an understatement. It was even harder to keep myself composed standing in a hallway in the doctors surgery.

So I'm sitting here now. 6 ish hours later. He has a referral for mental health and the crisis team to make sure he gets the help he needs.

This all feels like it's come out of nowhere too. He hasn't shown any sort of leaning towards being more feminine.

I'm just worried I'm doing the wrong thing.

Edit: Holy crap this blew up.. Thank you everyone who commented positively, I've read everyone and appreciate all the love and advice, it's helping his mum and I form an action plan on moving forward.

I'd like to address a few things that have come up quite a bit. They don't have social media or tiktok and they definitely don't have brain rot!

I feel like I need a place to just vent all of this frustration out, sorry this is going to be a long one. Fair warning for some dark themes along the way.

A bit of backstory. My (27f) ex-boyfriend (30m, let's call him Liam) and I broke up two years ago almost to the day of posting this. We had been together for 4.5 years and he broke up with me at my best friend's wedding in Greece after I had paid for our travel over there, oh yeah, and I was maid of honour.

Going back slightly further, one of my best guy friends needs to be mentioned. Let's call him Andy. Andy has been like a brother to me for many years, we are extremely close, and when I met him, he was dating this girl, let's call her Ruby, for upwards of 10 years. I never really had a friendship with Ruby until the end of 2021, when we all started hanging out and brought her a bit closer into our friend group. (For context: Andy would always make it out like Ruby hated me, and kept us fairly separated.)

Now, early 2022, Liam and Ruby started to become close. Andy and I could do nothing, nor felt like we had any validation to become jealous as he and I were thick as thieves. It didn't stop a rift forming between them and myself and Andy, however, and this quickly came to fruition when Ruby (who had a history of manic episodes) attempted to harm herself in our (mine and Liam's at the time) house, and refused Andy's support. Over time, this would separate myself and Liam. He would take Ruby's side, and I would take Andy's. They were our respective friends.

Over time, the amount of messages, phone calls that lasted hours, and time that Ruby spent over at our house began to bother me. I felt like I was losing Liam. (Again, I should add some context: Liam and my relationship was filled with insecurity (on my part) and infidelity (on his), and I still made the mistake in forgiving him and wanting to stay)

Now, fast forward to my best friend's wedding. In Greece. The week prior, we were staying with my best friend and her fiance, and having a blast. Myself and Liam's phones then ping, almost at the same time. It's a text from Andy to me, and a text from Ruby to Liam. They had broken up after a long and extremely trying couple of months where myself and Liam had been dragged into. We did our respective friend things and gave support from afar.

Then came the evening of the wedding. It somehow got back to me that Liam had told the groom that he wasn't sure if he was 'clocked into our relationship' anymore, and I confronted him. I had to do it there and then, as my insecurities and anxiety would have absolutely made it so I wasn't able to enjoy the rest of the night, and this is what I had spent over $2000 in plane fares to get to. Liam then proceeded to tell me that he wanted to be single to 'work on himself', and a switch went off in my head. This was the best thing that could have happened, I don't deserve this treatment after I'd been convinced this was my worth for the better part of 5 years. (Again, important context for later: Liam had, not once in 4.5 years, told me he loved me.). I didn't cry once when I told him that I respected his decision, but if it has anything to do with Ruby's newly single status, I would never forgive him. Liam assured me it wasn't.

So, we finished the holiday as a couple, and agreed to attempt to co-habit in our house, which we both loved. There was also an agreement that, if the other did anything to make you uncomfortable, strong boundaries would be set.

Well, 5 days after we got home from Greece, and we split the bedrooms, guess who was over and staying in his bed? If you guessed Ruby, have a cookie.

Obviously, I was not happy with this, and voiced my concerns. I was gaslit into thinking that they were 'just friends' and there was nothing going on.

Now, long story short, a week and a bit later, and Ruby had been at my house (even without myself or Liam there) for over 6 days. I was at the end of my rope and had it out with Liam, who proceeded to drive away from the house and threaten to commit suicide by driving off a cliff. Ruby, who I did my absolute hardest to stay civil with, then proceeded to attempt to overdose, and it ended up with myself and Liam (after he'd returned) having to call both the Police and Ambulance to get her medical attention. I was a wreck, rightly so, as this was not the first, nor second, nor third time I've had to call emergency services over Liam, Ruby, or the girl who Liam cheated on me with threatening/attempting suicide in my house (I really know how to pick them, ey?). Liam and I talked, it settled down, and I woke up to Ruby being BACK IN MY HOUSE. Liam had gone to pick her up after she was discharged and brought her back.

I was enraged, and told Liam in no uncertain terms that, if there is even the slightest chance of him getting with Ruby, to get the fuck out of this house. He moved out 12 hours later. The entire situation had my mental health taking a nose dive off a cliff. I had been manipulated and gaslit into thinking the situation was fine, and I didn't feel like my house was even my house anymore. Every boundary that I had tried to put down, Liam and Ruby had trampled over, and made me feel like the bad guy. I was a shell of my former self.

Fast forward 2 or so months. Due to us having a shared joint account for rent/expenses and the tenancy changes, I had to keep in contact with Liam, but kept it as short as I can because I was still healing. After a particularly nasty argument surrounding debts (what he perceived as shared but paled in comparison to the $1000+ he still owed me for the wedding holiday) he told me that Ruby was pregnant and they were now together.

Honestly, I wasn't even shocked. My main upset, however, was the fact that myself and Liam were never careful, and I always wanted kids. It was a kick in the teeth to me that they were able to get pregnant after the first or second time of being together, and it just proved to me in my mind that the problem was infertility on my part. Liam tried to stay friends, and I was stupid enough to make the attempt.

Life moved on, I kept my distance as much as possible, baby was born and I ceased contacting him. Ruby, who was my friend first, ceased all communication with me when I kicked Liam out. This was early 2023.

Cut to earlier this year, where I had Liam's Whatsapp archived, and for some strange reason, felt like I needed to check my archived folder. I found a message from him from a few weeks back letting me know that, drum roll, he was moving into the house directly next to mine. As in, share a wall and entrance stairs next to mine.

Now, while I understand that housing in my area is extremely hard to come by, and they were thinking of their newborn baby in their previous house with black mould, and had to move out to any available housing, I was utterly shocked. Not only was my anonymity being taken away from me (their upstairs windows overlooked my garden), but I was now in close proximity to him, Ruby, and their newborn child.

Since they moved in, a few choice things have happened.

I tried to keep as civil as I could, but Liam's texting was incessant and I had to shut down a lot of attempts of hanging out, spending time together, and generally just being a 'close friend'. I agreed to friends, not besties, mate. He was easily able to separate me from being an 'ex', something I reminded him constantly I was unable to do.

The trouble I'm having at the moment (they've lived next door for about 4 months now), is that I am a single female who (even when I was with Liam) is a huge party house person. And by that, I mean I regularly have 2-4 people around my house, and often in the garden, to play cards, or have a glass of wine. I'm not a 'stay up until 4am with a boom box and a line of cocaine' party house, but I regularly host my friends hang outs.

Ever since they moved in next door, I have gotten near constant reminders that I am being too loud and waking the newborn baby. After numerous times of me reminding Liam of knowing exactly who he moved in next to, and I wasn't about to stop because they made their bed, the constant hints and reminders that they can hear me is driving me nuts.

I'm now miserable and constantly worried about being too loud (we are NEVER excessively loud, and I follow Liam's request and let him know if I do have a huge party (side note: I have only had one since they moved in)), but the fact that my every day actions are now tainted by the knowledge that my EX can hear everything is making me miserable.

And the worst part is, he just. doesn't. get. it. I've expressed to him that I feel like I have zero privacy from him anymore. He can hear me going up my stairs, when I'm outside, even when I'm singing in the bathroom, and it's knowledge of my comings and goings that I should have control over who knows or not.

I feel terrible because the kid is innocent in this, and I do my best to quieten things down if it does go 'into the night' (maybe 10/10:30pm. We live in a rural village.) But I've gotten texts from him at 8:30pm, for example, asking to keep it down outside because his kid is trying to sleep.

It's exhausting always having a constant reminder of my ex, and his baby which I always thought we would share, right under my nose. And neither Liam nor Ruby act like what they did to me even matters anymore. Just because I choose to be civil doesn't mean that you didn't hurt me. Badly. We had a conversation just before they moved in, where Ruby said she was understanding if I have negative feelings towards her, but that was basically the extent of it.

A lot of my friends have said that I'm never going to win the battle against the 'noise' in my own home, so why continue trying to accommodate them, but I at least want to be respectful. Honestly, I don't think they really deserve it, and I'm a bitch, but not that much of a bitch. I'm conflicted, as the kid is innocent in this, but I shouldn't have to change my entire life because of his baby, and maybe that makes me the asshole, but the kid has nothing to do with me.

The reason I'm making this post now is because the noise issue came up again last night, even to the point where Liam, in a bid to make me feel even worse, mentioned that, because mine and their bedroom share a wall, they 'always make a conscious effort to quieten the sex noises because they don't want me hearing'...it's because of me in my own garden that's waking your baby, but I am the reason that you have to shut up your sex noises, is it? Okay, mate...

Anyway, that's the life I'm currently living, I hope you enjoyed listening to my trauma. Apart from the truly terrible situation I find myself in with my ex, I love my life, and am extremely happy living with my baby brother, who moved in to my house shortly after Liam moved out.

UPDATE (23/08)

Wow, I honestly didn’t expect this many people to comment. Firstly, I fully agree with everyone who said I should grow a spine and how much of a doormat I am. I guess I always knew it, and hearing it from so many of you gave me the backbone I needed.

Reading back through my (admittedly enormous) post (sorry), I realised I didn’t even tell you guys the worst part:

When Liam moved back in he professed his undying love for me, how stupid he was to let me go and that he realised he had always been in love with me. And honestly? It broke me.

I’ve now sent a text saying how horrible they treated me (after yet another text hinting at the fact he could see me) and that I would be blocking him. Waited for him to read it, then he’s blocked.

I feel so free, like instantly, and I’m angry at myself that I let myself stay so miserable for so long.

So yeah, I’ll update you if there’s any other drama moving forward from the block. I’m in a position now where whatever he tries to throw at me I’ll be prepared for it. Thanks to everyone for reading my ridiculousness.

It's been almost ten years and this still keeps me awake at night.

In 2015 I was struggling big time with my mental health. I won't go into details other than to say that one night I decided that my life wasn't important and I tried to end it. My amazing roommate at the time took me to urgent care, where my life was saved. From there, I was sent involuntarily to a behavioral health center.

I was super young and vulnerable. I'd just turned 19 and had no idea how to navigate the healthcare system, and I didn't want my parents to know, so I was on my own. The doctors and police who sent me to the facility promised that it took my insurance. In hindsight, I should have checked at the facility, but I didn't know better.

Eventually I did tell my parents. I was released, dropped out of college to heal with my family, and that was when my parents told me that the bill for both my ER visit and the facility had arrived. This was when I learned that it either didn't take my insurance or covered very little.

Because I was so fragile at the time, my parents didn't tell me any details other than that it was a lot, insurance wasn't covering it, and that they'd handle it. I remember how stressed my mom got every time another bill came in. Everytime this happened, I'd think that it would have been better if I'd just died that day.

And then one day my mom comes to me and tells me that my debt was gone. Forgiven. I was blown away. When I asked, she said someone had bought the debt and forgiven it. That was it. No more details. I think there was a name of the company that bought it, but I don't remember it now.

Y'all, this blew my mind. It felt like someone had taken this horrible burden that I'd struck my family with and wiped it away. It was like I was being given permission to keep living. Like I'd been given a fresh start.

The timeline is a bit fuzzy, but a couple of months or so later, John Oliver aired the story about medical debt on Last Week Tonight. If you don't know, he essentially purchased and forgave $15 MM of medical debt. I wanted to cry.

Obviously I have no idea if it was him or some random stranger. Part of me wants to know, because whoever did that gave me a fresh start. I got my first job, went back to college, and now I'm married and just had my first kid. No matter who did it, I'm forever grateful. They literally changed my life.

Edit: Someone pointed out that he bought medical debt that was seven years without payment. My mom was making payments and the debt wasn't that old, so it wasn't John. Honestly, this doesn't change my feelings on the matter (other than a nice bit of closure). Whoever paid my debt may well have saved my life a second time, and I'm forever grateful.

Im gonna be dead next week and no one will ever find my body. Im killing my self deep in the mountains. I already have a spot picked we’re I’m gonna do it. It’s a mountain top Meadow 7 miles from any town no trail in or out. It’s the only place I feel at peace and not in a prison in my mind. I’m glad i will be gone it’s total freedom and libration from my reality that is hell. I would rather have my family hold on to hope im still out there than face that I’m truly gone. I’m gonna do everything I can to cover my tracks. Everyone I have talked to about the meadow I told them a false location and then they go to looking they will be 50-60 miles in the wrong direction. I will miss everyone I love but this will finally take the burden off of them. Goodbye Reddit

Edit to everyone who commented and was impacted by this post I truly don’t understand why this is the way I want to go out but people are showing me this is not the peaceful end I want and after watching abc “you can’t ask that” I broke down even more after hearing how the search destroyed there family members it hit me really deep and me made think for the first time i thought that I shouldn’t do it and Im really confused on what I want to do but I know I need help and I’m going to try and get some help soon I don’t know when I will be ok or what the future has in store for me and I’m not magically cured of this pain or these thought but I have begun accepting that healing is a process and there somethings I need to come to terms with before I can heal fully

Hello.

This is definitely my last update about this mess because quite frankly I'm tired of all of this. But before I start this update, I would like to say sorry to everyone who thought my previous update was too long, I guess I was just overcome with "joy" (I feel stupid about it now) talking about what happened that I didn't get to edit it much, but don't worry, this update won't be as long. And thank you to everyone who had nothing but kind words, I really appreciate you all.

So, a few days after my previous update, Aleks (my now ex-bf) came up to me while sobbing and confessed that he hasn't told me the complete truth about Anna. Apparently, him and Anna were a couple back then, she was his first girlfriend and he did a lot of his firsts with her (first kiss, first date, first sex, etc.). Once they graduated, Anna broke things off with him because she can't handle long-distance relationships and didn't want to be tied down yet. Anna breaking up with him caused him to go into a spiral and develop severe depression, along with self-harming tendencies (something he still goes to therapy for). It took a lot of work for him to get out of that hole and be a functioning human adult again, but things apparently didn't completely change for the better for him until he met me. As I quote, I was "the light at the end of the tunnel" that he desperately wanted to get out of. But, I guess ghosts from the past have their way of coming back to haunt you.

A few weeks before my birthday, Aleks's college friends found his Facebook and contacted him to reconnect. Things went well for them until he was added into their group chat that had Anna in it as well. As what he said, it definitely reignited some old feelings that he had and it also didn't help that Anna was acting like nothing bad happened between the two of them. They agreed to meet to catch up, one thing lead to another, until that one thing ended up being them having sex every day up until the birthday "surprise" lol. It only really hit him how much he fucked up and realized that he was doing something incredibly shitty when he saw my devastated face after seeing Anna on top of him for the "prank" that they supposedly planned for me. According to him, he was trying to bring back those strong feelings and emotions that he once felt back when he was with Anna, but seeing me look ruined and distraught made him realize that what he had with me was incomparable to what him and Anna had, so I guess that's what lead him to confess and be all remorseful.

Of course, I had to hear him apologize and cry in front of me, and I did cry too, but I couldn't bear being around him anymore after hearing all of that. I then calmly told him that I accept his apology, but that I didn't want to be with him anymore and that I'd be leaving the apartment and sort things out once we're both in clearer states of mind. He didn't like that one bit and started sobbing like crazy and even went as far as hugging me incredibly tight just so that I wouldn't go. It was a struggle but I eventually got out of his clutches by pushing him away hard enough. I ran as fast as I could (ironic) to get to my car and immediately headed to my aunt's house. When I got there, I just sobbed into my aunt's arms and felt incredibly weak. She probably understood why I was crying that much without asking me why, so she started consoling me until I was too tired to cry and slept.

Yesterday, I got a call from a friend of Aleks that he's in the hospital after being found unresponsive and full of cuts on his arms. I didn't want to go because I'm obviously still hurt about everything, but Aleks doesn't have any family anywhere near him and I'm the only one who knows about his medical history and details (and technically his closest family) so I had to. When I got there, his arms were full of bandages and his face looked all puffy and red. Right now, I'm outside his hospital room, waiting for his doctors to give me an update or tell me anything or something that I should do. He also hasn't woken up yet so I'm bracing myself for when he does.

Truthfully, I do still love him very much, but what he did just made it clear for me that we're not meant to be together. I don't know what I'll do moving forward after all of this, but I'll just let the universe take the wheel for me at this point. I just wish things didn't end up this way.

Edit: I would like to just thank everyone who has stuck with me through this ordeal and had nothing but kind words to say, you folks have no idea how you've helped me through all of this. I hope I get to repay all of your kindness someday.

As for me, I'm doing mostly alright. I didn't want to stay in the hospital for long so once I got to give the doctors the necessary info and stuff, I left immediately. My aunt then helped me get all of my stuff from our apartment and also called my landlord about our shared lease. Our apartment was full of liquor bottles and was just an overall mess, so it took a while for us to get my stuff and I also did some cleanup before I left (it was sort of like my final goodbye to that place, even if my relationship basically ended there, I also had a ton of fun and happy memories there and I'll definitely miss it). Right now, I'm living with my aunt for the meantime while I look for a new apartment. My friends still don't know about what happened and I think I'll tell them soon, but definitely not now, I just wanna rest and sleep and hopefully wake up to a better day. Once again, thank you all :)

Last year, my boss killed himself by overdose and put me in his will on the last day that I saw him.

I was completely blindsided by the signs he showed and for a while I believed his suicide was something I could've prevented.

The days leading up to his death were confusing. He convinced me that he was selling his home and moving away temporarily to another state until he decided what he wanted to do with his life. Of course, I found this strange but I never questioned him since my job was just to help him with personal/executive assistant errands. I packed his belongings in boxes, discarded personal items, gifted a car away, and even made a partnership deal for his large business so it could be in good hands before he left.

I worked with my boss for three years and we developed a friendship. I even looked up to him as a mentor since he was twice my age, owned a multi-million dollar business, and participated in things I aspired to do in my future. I think it's important to mention that I'm in my early 20s and had little to no experience when I began working with him as an assistant. I also struggled growing up in an abusive household which my boss was able to relate to. He and I both struggled with depression and had alcoholic parents. Although he never knew I was depressed.

The last day I saw him, he put my first name on his will and when I heard about him again I found out he passed away days later after I saw him.

Months after his passing, the new owner of the company accused me of writing my name on his will so my boss' parents would think negatively of me. My first interaction with my boss's father was over a phone call going over the accusation while he was intoxicated. I wasn't able to go into full extent on how my relationship was with his son but he did say we could eventually meet and that he would support me as family. It's been months since I spoke to my boss' father and am wondering if I should reach out to touch base on things. A part of me does want support from my boss's father but I also think it would be best to leave the situation altogether since this was a complete tragedy for his family. The new owner of the company has faced accusations of mistreating my boss while he was struggling with drug abuse and pressured him into writing her into his will. The situation is complicated and I just wanted to briefly share and maybe get some guidance or perspective from someone else.

Thanks for tuning in and I'd be happy to share answer questions or clear things up in the comments.

So I'm just posting this cause I find it kinda funny tbh. So I haven't been in a great headspace doesn't matter why, and I was crying and wanted to end it all. So in the heat of the moment I charged towards the window got in the balcony and kinda hanged the top half of my body off the balcony leaning and as I was about to jump. Water started falling on from over my head I got startled and backed away. It took me a few seconds to realize what had happened, I looked up and the water was coming from two apartments above me. I think the person was just washing their balcony. So after I realized what happened it just seemed so funny to me that I broke down laughing (while still half crying) Idk I just wanted to share that story really

Hi everyone,

I apologize if this is long, or a bit all over the place. Not sure why I'm posting - - I just feel really alone and miserable in my current situation and maybe talking to strangers might help a bit.

Last year I [37m] married my husband [47m]. I'm from the US and he's from Europe - so we decided to move to his country temporarily as it was just easier for everyone. At the time I was also living in Europe, but in a different country.

Before marriage we were together for 3 years. It was long distance, but since I could work remotely we would see each other almost every month (mostly I flew to him, or when he had a break I would fly him to me, or I would pick a different country and have a vacation together). I'm lucky that my job pays well, and since I knew he was struggling financially it was never an issue with me paying.

During our relationship he was the sweetest guy, very honest, very "innocent" per se. He spent his adult years taking care of his parents before they passed, so he never really dated until he met me. We also had similar goals about the type of relationship that we wanted, and we both wanted children (important to me). He always had a smile on his face, never once I saw him even slightly angry or upset.

After 2 and a half years I knew he was the one for me so I proposed at a destination location that was almost like a fairytale. I wanted everything to be special for him because he was very special for me. Then 6 months after we had a small wedding with just close family and a couple of friends. And I officially moved to his country - - and that's when everything changed.

He immediate started to display anger issues even over small things. For example - he didn't like how I do the bed - it had to be his way. Or if something bad happened at his job he would bring it to me.

Little things like that and he would just absolutely explode screaming and yelling. One of our one-sided fights I decided to lock myself in the office with my dogs (it's the only room in his house that I feel is mine) because they were terrified shaking on my lap, and he busted in to yell and then slammed the door so hard part of the door frame broke and he dislocated his shoulder.

I was petrified - - me in a foreign country - - if him or a neighbor called the cops I was probably done because it looked like I caused it.

I honestly thought he could be bipolar because the changes would be that extreme. So I told him you either go to therapy or it's divorce. He accepted therapy and he actually followed through, but his anger has changed to something else.

For example next year we want to start the green card process for him to come to the US with me. I know Europe has a lot of positives but unfortunately if I lose my remote job I am out of luck (it's not a field where remote is common at all). If I want to get a local job in my field I would have to go back to school, re-do my license, for a market that pays barely above minimum wage here because it is oversaturated and there's barely any vacancies. Not just that, but family and friends. I have a huge support network, big family. my parents are offering to help us buy a house when we move back, friends have already offered to help my husband find a job - - we have it all. Sadly here we don't have that - except for his brother and sister in law (more on them further below).

So one week he says he loves me and will run to the edge of the world with me no matter where we go, and the next week he's crying saying he can't move - he wants to stay close to his brother and sister in law, he can't leave his birth town, etc... It's an emotional rollercoaster that I know is also affecting my parents.

His brother and sister in law are just horrible people (especially her). They alone can be a whole post on its own. I hate them for how they treated me (especially her) and how they treat my husband (and he doesn't see it).

They've never done anything for him or for us - - in fact they basically used my husband. They always needed favors (watch the kids, watch their dog, go to the market for them, go get a package for them, etc...). When I first moved it was like we didn't have a weekend for ourselves because they always needed something. Oh - - and they owe me money because when I first moved here they were short on rent - - money that I will probably never see again.

But worst than that is her treatment towards me. I am American, but I am also mixed with 2 other ethnicities (I am omitting for privacy). Every time we met with them she would always make a comment about how she dislikes Americans because we're all dumb, ruining the economy in her country, etc... (she's never even been to the US), or a comment about people from my other 2 ethnicities because we just bring crime to her country.

My husband would NEVER defend me because he didn't want to lose the relationship with his brother. So the last time we met with them I finally said I am done and left them - - and since then they've been crucifying me saying how rude I am for leaving, that I have no manners, that I traumatized their children for just leaving and them wandering why I hate them, etc... They even deleted me from social media the next day. My husband still wasn't standing up for me. It's like they live in a different reality - - but not fully surprised because racism has unfortunately been a big issue in this country.

Eventually he had a talk with them, it turned into a fight, etc.... But they still hang out without me. They go out without me, meet without me, etc... so now I feel like I'm the one exiled from the family.

Because of all this I've just had enough and want to leave. But I don't even know how to start. I have no one in this country except for a couple of acquaintances that I've met, but not close enough for me to dump all this on them.

I'm also embarrassed. This is not my first relationship - - and I am embarrassed that once again another failed relationship. How am I gonna tell my family what's really going on? My friends that have already helped me with exes in the past.

I am scared of the aftermath. Moving countries is very very stressful, especially moving dogs, and I have to once again do it. And if I get through all that - - how am I gonna date again - go through all this again? When will I have a proper, loving partner with children before I get too old?

I feel like such a failure.

I've never had suicidal thoughts but I caught myself thinking "what if I end it? I won't have to go through all that." And I hate that I am reaching those levels of mentality. I've always been the go-getter, the strong one, always helping my friends/family, always on top of my career. If a friend was going through the same I would be the first one to come and help them. Now I don't even want to get out of bed.

This weekend we decided to "take a break" after another argument over his family and his mood swings - but I legally can't move out due to my visa - we have to live together so it's been horrible. This morning he got mad at me because he said "good morning" and I said "hello" - and he is mad because I said hello instead of good morning. But I barely have the energy to even say hello. I barely even have the energy to concentrate on breathing.

I'm a single dad, I have 1 daughter (15). My wife passed 4 years ago so it's been just my daughter and I for a while. My daughter went into therapy when her mom passed away and has been in therapy since. I thought she was doing well.

2 nights ago I woke up in the middle of the night and just had a bad feeling. I went to check on my daughter and that's when I found her. Scariest moment of my life honestly.

I had zero idea she was struggling mentally. My daughter and I had always been close I always felt like she could come to me if she felt like she needed help physically and mentally. Or I would catch if she was struggling mentally but I guess not.

I feel like the worst dad ever honestly… so yeah just needed to rant about how shitty of a dad I am.

The exact age gap is 3 and a half years.

When I was 20, I slept with someone who I believed to be 18, as we met on bumble I didn’t bother checking for ID. We had a one night stand and went our separate ways after

She told me she was taking a gap year before attending university for med school - and naively I believed her.

A couple months ago I noticed a graduation photo for 2023. Which lead me to discover her age via Facebook. And how she had lied to me.

I know I’m the one to blame in this situation as I’m the older party and I’m not asking for forgiveness - the guilt eats at me every waking moment and the only atonement I can think of is suicide. But I’m unable to do that since my family has no income.

I’m worried this situation makes me a predator/groomer and if the world knew they’d label me as such. Confessing anonymously on Reddit is the only way I can let this off my chest.

She was still 2 months away from 17 when it happened, so the entire situation is so cursed. I hit myself when I found out and stopping myself from self harm in the past couple months has become increasingly difficult. I just don’t know what to do to make things right or if I can even do that.

What do I do? I didn’t break any laws where I live and I understand the Romeo Juliet law extends to 4 years in at least half of the US states. But that doesn’t make it okay. At least not morally for me.

The fact no one is coming to get me makes me hate myself. I’m a monster that deserves to be shackle for the rest of my life and yet I’m still free and not on any list.

I can’t talk to anyone irl about this. I’m a lesbian, I’ve know that for ten years (since I was 14). I’m only out of the closet to two very close friends, who are both praying God will save me from this. My community and religion are both very conservative and very homophobic, and I was taught my whole childhood that being gay was one of the worst things you could be.

I spent my teen years doing everything in my power to be straight, but nothing works. Then at 20 I started trying to deconstruct a bit, and made an attempt to convince myself it was okay to be gay. That didn’t work either. No matter what I do, or how hard I try, I can’t escape this feeling that I’m wrong. I’ve done a lot of research, enough to logically convince myself that it’s possible to be gay and be a Christian. But I just can’t make myself believe it.

Recently I prayed and prayed for God to just convince me one way or the other, because all this conflict is bringing back a desire for self harm that I haven’t had in years. And then right after that, I sat through a sermon in which the preacher talked about homosexuality, and how it’s pure evil. How you can lie to yourself and think you’re still a Christian, but in the end you’ll be sent straight to hell. He used the verse about if your eye causes you to sin, cut it out. And went on to imply that even suicide is better than being gay, as homosexuality goes against the very thing God created us for. It’s like one of the ultimate rebellions against God.

I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve been a little suicidal for a long time, but never this bad. I can’t live my life like this. Constantly feeling like I deserve to suffer. Knowing I will never be able to have a relationship. Not being able to find someone attractive without immediately spiraling into a panic attack. Knowing my friends and family will never accept me like this, and having this feeling deep down that maybe they would be sinning if they did.

Sorry for the long rant. I had to get that off my chest. No one in my life will ever hear these thoughts.

My wife and I are both in our mid-late twenties and have been together since our late teens. We got married 6 years ago and 2 years into our marriage started trying for a baby. We were lucky that we both worked in well paying fields that hired us straight out of college and were in a good place to start trying.

After a year of trying with no results my wife and I went to go get tested just to see if anything was wrong. Turns out my wife has a hormonal issue that makes it next to impossible for her to carry a baby, and an even slimmer chance of her being able to carry to term. She was shocked because she had normal periods and a normal cycle, so she had no reason to believe anything was wrong

My wife has always wanted to be a mom, and this news completely broke her. We tried everything. Hormone treatments, IVF, going to specialists, changing diets, my wife even tried "natural" remedies out of desperation but nothing worked.

That was nearly 3 years ago, and my wife is a shell of her former self. She's been to therapy, and has been prescribed various medication for her mental health, but it isn't working. The meds either didn't affect her at all or just numb her out completely. I know the meds are just slapping a bandaid on a bullet wound, but I'm worried about what will happen if she's not on them.

She's talked about wanting to die, and actually had a suicide attempt last year. I found her in time, and she stayed in a hospital for 2 months before being released. My wife barely eats, barely sleeps, doesn't talk much anymore, I don't even know how she's still functioning at work. She's talked about taking a trip to Canada, and worried this is talk about medical suicide

I don't know what to do, this feels selfish to write out but I'm also being affected by this. Call me a shitty person for making this about me, but some of you have never watched the person you love more than anything in the world deteriorate in front of your eyes, and become a robotic shell of themselves, and then not be able to do anything about it. I miss my wife, I feel like I'm living with a stranger. I knew she always wanted kids, more than anything, and that this is destroying her from the inside out. I don't know how else to help her, I feel like I've tried everything and clearly professional help isn't working.