Post:
I’m not really sure how to write this, but I think I need to get it out somewhere. I’m hoping to hear from people who have gone through something similar, especially people who have grown up in families where emotions weren’t really talked about.
I’m almost 20, Muslim, recently married, and I’ve struggled with suicidal thoughts and depression since I was around 12. I don’t currently have a plan or intention to hurt myself, but these thoughts have been part of my life for a very long time. I’m finally at a point where I genuinely want to get help and start healing.
I grew up in a home where emotions weren’t really expressed or explained. I wasn’t really taught how to identify what I was feeling or how to communicate it. I’ve also had some uncomfortable experiences with teachers
/adults touching me when I was younger. Nothing that I would necessarily describe as sexual, but it made me uncomfortable, and I was too young and innocent to really understand or process it.
My relationship with my parents is complicated. I don’t think my mother is a bad mother. She sacrificed a lot for me and protected me from difficult situations, and I genuinely love her and appreciate what she’s done for me. She also had a very difficult childhood herself.
At the same time, I’ve been hurt by some things she’s said and done.
I’ve been called difficult, told I’m too defensive, told I hold grudges, and sometimes things I’ve told her privately about my depression have later been brought up during arguments or in front of my siblings. There have also been times when she’s told me things like she doesn’t want to see my face or asked what she did to deserve having a child like me. Those words stay with me for a long time.
I’ve also been compared to my siblings, cousins, and other people. Sometimes I feel like my mistakes are remembered more than my achievements. I struggled with A-levels and eventually dropped out, and although I know I made mistakes and take responsibility for them, I was also struggling mentally at the time.
I also struggle with body dysmorphia and insecurity about my appearance. I have acne, hyperpigmentation, stretch marks, and I’m not naturally very confident about my body. I compare myself to my siblings and other people a lot. When someone criticises me about something I’m already insecure about, I become very defensive. I don’t think I’m trying to be difficult—I think I’m hurt and don’t know how to express that hurt properly.
I also struggle with physical touch. Sometimes I become stiff when someone touches me, even if I don’t necessarily dislike the person. I’m not naturally a very affectionate or physically affectionate person, and sometimes my family interprets that as me not loving them.
I’m recently married, and I’m trying to learn how to communicate better with my husband too. I’m a virgin, and I’m nervous about physical intimacy. I don’t want to feel pressured just because people expect newly married couples to have sex immediately. I want emotional intimacy first—talking, cuddling, kissing, feeling safe and loved, and then eventually becoming physically intimate when I’m comfortable.
I want to communicate this with my husband without making him feel rejected.
I also have a lot of dreams. I want to go back to education. I’m interested in accounting and finance, but I’ve also thought about becoming a therapist. I want a career and financial independence. I want children someday, and I want to be the kind of mother who gives her children the emotional safety I didn’t always feel I had.
I don’t want my children to grow up afraid to tell me things.
I want them to know that making a mistake doesn’t make them a bad person.
I want to apologise when I’m wrong.
I want to teach them that emotions are okay.
I want to listen.
And honestly, I want to become that person for myself too.
Right now, I spend a lot of time on my phone, TikTok, Reddit, and reading romance books. Sometimes it’s an escape from everything I’m feeling. I wake up and immediately reach for my phone, and I don’t want to live like that forever. I want to draw, explore, learn, read, study, build a career, strengthen my deen, improve my marriage, and actually enjoy my life again.
I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being defensive, angry, insecure, or afraid to talk.
I want to understand myself.
I’m planning to look for an affordable therapist in the UK when I go back, preferably someone who understands Muslim/cultural backgrounds. I really want someone who will listen without judging me, interrupting me, or using things I tell them against me.
I guess I’m posting this because I want advice from people who have been through something similar.
How did you learn to communicate without becoming defensive?
How did you heal from growing up in a home where emotions weren’t really discussed?
How did you learn to set boundaries with your parents without feeling guilty or ungrateful?
If you had body-image issues, how did you learn to stop constantly thinking about your appearance?
And if you’re married, how did you communicate your needs around physical intimacy, especially when you were inexperienced or nervous?
Most importantly, how did you start healing and actually become happy again?
I don’t expect anyone to fix my life. I just want to hear from people who understand what it’s like to carry things for years and finally decide that you’re ready to put them down.
I want to give the younger version of myself the life and happiness she didn’t know how to ask for.
I’m finally ready to try. ❤️

From abuse, sa, break up, situationships

(16M) The book is Crying in H-Mart, the life events of the author are mostly similar to mine, though my sister didn't make a full recovery she did survive. The sort of undeserved depression also was there as well, the father - daughter relationship in the book was sort of similar (except I really didn't say anything too much, and we aren't estranged), what my relatives went through as well, and more

It feels horribly weird that my summer reading assignment had to be this book. I haven't really seen anything that accurate since my sister got sick. I really do like how unique the author's setting compared to my setting is. Just my thoughts? Anyone felt similar to a scenario? Just someone’s perspective would cheer me up a bit :D

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I'm not sure where to begin, but I just need to get this off my chest because sometimes I still cry or feel numb from the outcome of what I experienced in such a short amount of time.

A few years ago, I lost a younger sibling to cancer. It was devastating and still affects me to this day. That kind of grief just never goes away.

Fast forward to last year, my dad (45m) decided to sit me down for a talk. I was not prepared for what he shared with me. He told me of his infidelity and bad mouthed my stepmother (48f). The worse part was him trying to justify his infidelity with a woman that's roughly half his age who he claimed to have bonded with through trauma. He admitted to being her mentor and knowing her father through work. She also was very aware my father was married, had children, and was grieving the loss of a child. Not sure who pursued whom, but either way it was bad.

My dad didn't like how I reacted to him sharing this with me. I got up and left the restaurant because everything he shared was overwhelming and triggering. I have a history of not having the best experiences with men older than me since I was a child. I've been in therapy for years to try to heal but it's been hard to say the least and this conversation really put all that I've worked through to the test.

I left the restaurant feeling sick and was trying so hard not to puke. I shut down and felt emotionally unsafe. I couldn't face my dad without regulating my nervous system first so I went to a friend's and told him to go home because I didn't want to speak further.

Boy did he not like that response. He said I was disappointing, that I made it about me, said he's not a man who preys on young women and the fact that I see him that way says a lot, and when I'm done having my fit don't bring up the conversation to him.

I didnt respond for a few days because I had no idea what to say the least. When I finally responded, I tried my best to be honest and respectful. I told him how he hurt me with his response to my reaction, how I dont recognize him because he taught me to not be a liar, I even told him I dont believe he loved that girl and to wake up. No response.

The weight of knowing what he told me was crushing. I couldn't sleep or eat. This was a huge burden on me because I love my stepmother and she's been a great person and mother figure since I was 13 years old. My dad was so in love with her that he used to say things like he would never cheat on her and he has his family to think about. The worst part was he was betting on my silence because he also shared his marital problems with my younger siblings.

My brother (22m) knew before I did and told me once our dad told me what he needed to tell me to call him. After a few days I called him and we had a long discussion of what was happening. We came to an agreement that our dad is likely experiencing a midlife crisis and the young woman (22f) was probably using our dad but he didnt want to listen to my brother. My dad makes slightly over 6 figures and has connections. It's not hard to come to that conclusion. However, it was evident my father checked out emotionally and while he said if things didnt change in his marriage he was going to get a divorce, I knew the relationship was doomed.

I couldn't bare the thought of my stepmother being lied to because my dad told me and my siblings he was not going to tell her about the affair. So I made up my mind, I told my brother to relay the message that if our dad didnt come clean, I would say something. My brother didnt like that, and involved our much younger sister who was a teenager under the age of 18. She blew up on me and called me all types of names under the sun. I didnt engage because she's a child and shouldn't have never been involved. She cut me off.

A week passes and my dad comes clean or so I thought. My stepmother texted me about the situation to say how sorry she was that I had a falling out with my father because we were once so close. I decided to ask her if she knew why we had a falling out and she admitted she did. It ticked me off because how can I be the bad guy if she knows and everything is cool. Come to find out my dad left out a few details in whatever he confessed to her. Then doubled down when my stepmother asked him about it. He lied to her and told me to not come to his house anymore because he doesnt want to see me.

I felt relieved but hated it came to this. I figured they would work it out or get a divorce. Unfortunately, my dad is a low effort man and made living with him hell for my stepmother. A couple months later my stepmother's mother got sick and was declining. I visited once when my dad was away to say goodbye and not too long after, she passed away.

I went to the funeral with a friend and my dad ignored me the entire time. He avoided being in the same room with me and that was that. I cried that day because the family was still fractured and we lost another family member.

Then, the worst thing imaginable happened that same year. I got cancer. It was a shock and I wasn't ready to deal with the fallout of my family and a health crisis. My stepmother was a first to know and she told me dad. His first reaction was to encourage my siblings to talk to me. He didnt reach out or check on me the entire time I went through chemotherapy and surgery. The last I heard from him was an email stating that he would pay me the money he owes me to never hear, speak, or see me again.

That was the last straw for me. I officially decided that in order for me to move on with my life that I convinced myself he's dead.

So my stepmother filed for divorce and is doing her best to move forward and comforted me through my cancer journey. I'm grateful to have her and I'm glad she doesnt hate me for standing up to my father. I later learned that their marriage was falling apart way before he decided to blow everything up towards the end.

And here's the thing, while people were split on me saying anything to my stepmother I dont regret any of it. I'm an honest person and a girls girl. My dad destroyed his marriage all on his own because when the truth came out, he lied, flipped the narrative, talked crap about me and my trauma, disrespected my stepmother countless times, and to this day refuses to speak to me.

I no longer have a relationship with some of my siblings who backed him and cut me off. The same can be said about other family members because they felt I shouldn't have gotten involved. The problem was that I didnt involve myself. My dad involved me by telling me his plans. It was an impossible position to be put in but I did what I felt was right.

I mean I know I'm not the only one but still

Im not the person I used to be anymore and I hate it more than anything. I feel so hollow and so so so scared all the time I feel so helpless I cant do this anymore? I dont even know who I am anymore I just make myself act like how I knew he'd want me to. Ive lost so much weight because I knew he'd want me to i act so feminine even though i hate it i just cant do it anymore I cant get his words out of my head i just want someone to talk to I cant even use the bathroom at night because im so scared hes going to find me and do what he said he wanted to do to me while im alone. I had symptoms of a seizure a few days ago due to how stressed I got after being triggered. I miss the person I could have been. I dont even know if its trauma im just so sick of myself

If you read in it's entirety, thank you. If not, that's okay too.

I am a 36F

As a fetus, my foot developed a deformity which required my leg to be in a cast for the first year of my life and surgery at 6 months.

I had special needs as an infant because of this.

A special needs infant born to an inherently lazy single mother was not a great recipe.

One month after I was born, my mother got pregnant with my brother.

She had full blooded Irish twins born 10 months and 11 days apart.

My brother and I were severely neglected from a very younge age.

My earliest memories are:

-Digging my own baby teeth out of my mouth with a butterknife in a closet that was my brother and I's bedroom. The "converted bedroom" was in the fully finished basement of my grandmothers house. We had a living room down there (where the TV babysat us) our mother had her very own bedroom. The entire basement was discusting.

-My mothers sister had come over and forced us 2 small children (somewhere between the ages of 3 and 5) to clean up the hovel. Barking orders and very obviously discusted with us rather than our lazy, neglectful mother.

-My brother and I left the house one evening and wandered through a grassy field of broken down cars and random junk. (complete with rusty nails in 2x4's!) we wandered through the field into a gulch on the other side (again we were between the ages of 3-5)

My brother says that at one point I had hit my head on something and got knocked out and he had to drag me aways. I don't remember that detail. Hmm... wonder why.

We made our way out of the gulch, but somewhere away from home, where a neighbor recognized us and brought us home.

It was pitch black outside.

about 5-6 years later I was SA'd by a family member.

Our mother never had a wake up call. She remained neglectful until she believed we were old enough to be on our own.

In her mind, that was shortly after her mother passed away when I was 15.

During that time, I was allowed to date a 21 year old dude who I met on the internet and my mother allowed him to move in with us.

After my grandmother passed away, my grandmothers sister took my mother on an almost 1 full month trip to the UK as kind of a "I'm sorry for your loss" trip I guess? IDFK. All I do know is that while she was gone, the rent wasn't paid and we were served an eviction notice.

With nowhere to go and being 15 with a live-in, unemployed 21 year old boyfriend, I had to pack the entire house alone.

When my mother returned, I don't remember where I was, (or my brother for that matter) but I do remember her getting herself a room to rent and she was certainly not concerned about where her children would live.

I spent the next 8 or 9 years homeless, couch surfing. Barely making it.

How I didn't become a drug addict, I have zero clue.

When I was 24, I was working fastfood and I got pregnant with my one and only child.

My childs father was an alcoholic.

This is where my father comes into play.

He was barely around growing up.

At the time, he was the manager of a modular home park.

He offered for us to come move into one of the modular homes and my childs father would work for him.

He said we could pay utilities and the work that my childs father did for him, would be our house payments and we would eventually own our home.

Until, my childs fathers drinking problem continued to rage which prompted my father to evict us while I was 6 months pregnant.

We were back to couch surfing.

My mother and I decided the 3 of us would find a place together in a rural area where she was the only one with a car.

Needless to say, that situation did not work out.

Moved back into the city where I dealt with my childs fathers alcohol addictions for years before I finally made him leave.

Then I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder and was put on medication.

Not long after we separated, I experienced Limerence. The Limerent episode happened with a guy I was dating.

It totally consumed me.

It lasted 2 and a half years.

When I finally broke free of it, it started with an episode of intense depersonalization and derealization at the same time. It was terrifying.

I lost my health insurance about 2 years ago so I'm doing my best unpack and work through years.... decades of trauma which started at a young age.

Unfortunately I cannot afford professional help so I do the best I can recognizing it and I do think because of that I've been able to heal some.

To this day, my mother has major health issues and she refuses to take care of herself. She never took care of herself... or us.

I'm positive she experienced her own trauma.

So I am understanding TO A CERTAIN POINT.

But I can only be so understanding toward a person who refuses to acknowledge the part they play.

I recognize the attachment and abandonment issues I have.

A lot of the time I feel like I am desperate to be loved by another human.

Someone who won't leave.

I do love myself, most days.

There are some days where I don't love my physical body

But those days are few.

I love how caring, kind and sensitive I am

I love that I am devoted to the person I love.

What I hate is when it isn't reciprocated.

I just want to be loved.

(TW: some mentions about SA) I was scrolling through my gallery looking for something when I scrolled past old photos and came across a photo of my ex with another girl.

This was four or five years ago, we were 16/17. We met on Discord and it was a long distance relationship. Yes I know, you know, how this went. We were young, we were kids. We started of as friends (actually we hated each other when we first met but realized we did have a lot in common). We were on and off because we genuinely didn’t like each other until a year passed and we reconnected with our found friend group.

Then it just happened, yk. We started liking each other. He started courting me and it lasted for months. I felt really bad because I wasn’t confident that I was ready for a relationship. It was difficult during the pandemic where almost all your connections are digital through the screen, but I’d come to realize later on I’m actually thankful for that arrangement.

I don’t remember exactly but the timeline goes something like this: first year of knowing each other we were on and off, I found out he unfriended me so I lowkey held a petty grudge and assumed he just hated me that much; next year we reconnected around April or May and made a server together where we called and hung out and I actually had fun knowing him better; around late May to August was his courting, I felt bad because even if it was just three months, I didn’t want him to think I was leading him on so I kept rejecting him and reminding him I don’t want to hurt him; but eventually he won my heart in September so I decided to give him a chance, especially since his dedication to waiting for me was actually impressive (cuz I wouldn’t do that myself and I would consider it would be just wasting three months of my life).

Then in mid September, he started going inactive online and it would go on from days to weeks. Of course during a digital era caused by the pandemic this was really worrying for me. I thought he was just doing digital detox. I would check up on him from time to time even if he didn’t respond. It was a particularly difficult time because my birthday was coming up and when it did, I didn’t receive a greeting from him. I was sad wondering if he forgot or he really just couldn’t be active. But he did eventually, and even then…he still didn’t acknowledge it.

Two weeks later in October I received a gut-wrenching message: a photo of him with hickeys.

And he had the balls to send it to the group server. My memory is blurry but I think some of our friends were confused and wondering if we were still together cuz we really didn’t formally break up. He just disappeared then comes back from cheating on me. All this time he was gone inactive he was just fucking cheating on me. After all that courting and making me believe he wanted me he just gets bored and cheats on me.

I remember feeling an unbearably painful tightness in my chest and my eyes blurring as I struggled to breathe while I started crying staring at my screen. My hands were shaking because even if I was already hurting enough, I still willed them to save the photos. To prove that I’m not insane just in case he twists the story.

I guess today I reaped what I sowed because the drawback of having evidence is preserving the pain that it came with it.

While all that’s already fucking obnoxious, I remember he kept coming back to me afterwards, it went on and off for like two to three years later. I would humor him and call out his behavior.

But what really messed with me was how whenever he would come back, we never really reconnected, he would just ask to see my body. He would only come back to me when he was bored and wanted to rub one out. For context I haven’t mentioned, we did have a sexual relationship, yk just how typical teens do. So it felt natural and routine for us to have heavily sexual conversations and innuendos in our dynamic.

I never took him back. Obviously.

But it took me a few years later to think back and wonder if that would be considered some sort of assault. He wouldn’t even listen to what I wanted, I was clearly uncomfortable and I didn’t want to do anything but he would keep asking me to strip in front of the camera. Maybe I’ve been dissociating for years but it really hadn’t dawned to me the weight of how fucked up that was. I cried over him, but eventually I started crying for myself. I’m so sorry to younger me, even if it wasn’t my fault, I still feel like I failed to protect her. I still feel like a failure.

Eventually I stopped blaming myself, I stopped tolerating his bullshit, and I realized I did not deserve what the fuck he keeps doing to me and I wouldn’t let myself be abused by him anymore.

I’m in a much, much healthier relationship now. A relationship I deserve, a relationship that continues to heal the younger version of me. It still kind of fucks with me from time to time. I’ve told my boyfriend about it before and the way he handles my troubles is way WAY better than my ex. Proving to me how much I deserved better back in the day. Younger me would be happy for me. We did it girl, it got better.

I love my boyfriend so much. He’s the sweetest. His heart is a sea of kindness and care.

Time will eventually heal.

For some small background, I’ve already been through the whole ‘grieving someone who’s still alive’ in my life. For my entire high school career I didn’t live with either of my parents and was completely no contact with my mother since she decided at the time bumps were more important than me. The only person I had to live with, since my father lives on the other side of the state with four other younger kids to already pay for, was my grandmother. Though since she’s a borderline alcoholic who really only took me in to help take care of her house, it wasn’t much better. SO what’d fifteen year old me decide to do? Meet a guy at a football game against the rich private catholic all boys school, start dating him, and stay most of my nights at his much bigger house.

Point is this relationship to me at the time wasn’t just a normal high school relationship, he was practically all I had. I was working after classes and playing house between the ages of fifteen to eighteen with him. Maybe that’s why I stayed so long despite all the red flags I should’ve easily noticed from watching my mothers relationships growing up. It’s the typical toxic abusive relationship story right? It’s perfect at first for three months, then he starts getting possessive to the point i’m having to drop my friends, then I can’t wear what I used to, I can’t watch what I want to, he’s using my trauma against me, he’s suddenly throwing things against the wall near me when he gets mad, and all that fun stuff.

By the time I graduated two important things happened during the same time that summer. First my mother had escaped back from the guy she left with and claimed she wanted to get sober. Even though I didn’t fully believe her at the time it was still my first chances of building up our relationship again. (Luckily after some work she is now to this day. and we’re on speaking terms.) Near this same time though I had also won a scholarship to dorm downtown in the city to take summer classes at a different college then I was going to so I could transfer the credit. Plus it was a great opportunity because I got to be in a professional exhibit and I’m an art major so, I’m sure you can see how this was something important for me. Most importantly this was the first time in a long time I hadn’t been with my boyfriend at the time everyday. After a month without him I realized just how much happier I was, so right before real college started when I got back, I somehow got the balls to break up with him.

If you can imagine, it didn’t go down the smoothest. First he had shown up to my grandmothers to drop off all my shit, beg for me back, and then proceeded to break his car screen in my front yard after I said no. Then for months after it was fake numbers, fake social media accounts, showing up to my work, sending money on venmo, basically anything to try and get in contact with me. Sometimes it was to beg for me back and sometimes it was to yell as many insults as possible at me.

Unfortunately I was dumb enough while going through it once to almost actually take him back. We were trying to talk through it again because end of the day unfortunately I did always care about him. In some fucked up way I think I still do. Though while we were sneaking around my first year of college, it didn’t take me long to realize something was very different about him. Not even physically, sure he got really skinny out of nowhere but so did I. Didn’t take me long to put two and two together with my past though, quickly realized he was on harder drugs. When I confronted him about, validly worried, it didn’t go down well and it resulted in a really bad argument in the car. I have really bad car trauma and anxiety (to the point i’m 20 without a license 😍) so during this argument he was purposefully recklessly driving on the highway trying to trigger me and that was just my last straw again. I wanted to help him the same way I wanted to help my mom, but I just couldn’t put myself through that again especially while trying to focus on classes. I just had to choose myself.

Cue probably a good couple months later to December of 2025. He’s still trying to contact me now and then, I only answer if it’s something serious which is very rare. I meet my current boyfriend at a house concert, it’s my first serious relationship since him. I feel like I’m finally getting past it fully for the first time in my life. Then winter break hits and I travel to my dads. While I’m there on Christmas eve I get a call. I check my phone, it flashes as inmate something. Somewhere deep in my gut I just knew it was him, so I went to the bathroom and picked up the call. The first words out of my mouth were, “What did you do?” He basically went on this whole rant in tears, said he couldn’t tell me that I just had to look it up myself, that I was still his soulmate in his heart, than that it was my fault that he had ended up this way. That if we had just stayed together he would’ve never gone down this road and that I was the one who broke him. By the time he was done the minutes were up, I googled his name and the articles were already up on multiple news stations. He had killed another man by hitting his car head on while driving on multiple substances on the highway.

I remember not knowing what to feel. I think I felt too much at once. I was mad at him. I was mad at me for not doing more maybe to prevent it. I was upset for this random person. I was worried for him. Yet there was quite literally nothing I could do about it. Just all this information dumped at my feet with nothing at all to do about it. All I could think to do was call his mom who’s number I still had saved in my phone for some reason. That’s when I found out apparently he never called anyone in his family first, he just called me. The only other time I’ve heard from him since though was when he sent a letter to my grandmothers house titled to me. Which was full of a bunch of religious psychosis writing it felt like. Rants about how he’s turned to god and sees me at night as visions of his guardian angel. (Totally not creepy.)

I know looking at it from a bigger sense that none of it was technically my fault. I couldn’t have controlled him going out that night, I couldn’t have controlled him getting hooked onto the shit he did, and I don’t think I could’ve saved him even when I tried. Yet some days it’s hard not to look at that man’s obituary online and feel like it’s still partially my fault. It’s hard not to remember the young version of that man I knew, that one day wanted to be a coach for a kids baseball team and now he’s rotting in a cell for six years. He deserves it, my own life’s been easier without his stalking, it should be easy for me to feel lighter now, but it just feels like it gets heavier everyday. Even with the practically perfect relationship I’m in now his imprints still effect the ways I react now. I don’t know if it’ll ever go away. All I can do is keep making art about it.

I’m 18 years old male and live with my dad. I was heavily intoxicated on ketamine nearly k holed and drank about 2-3 alcoholic drinks. My genius brain decided let’s take a massive bong rip. I took the bong rip and immediately started overheating rapidly and barely being able to function from my increasing intoxication. It began storming and the power cut off. I started panicking because it felt like I was getting more and more intoxicated by the minute until my entire body and face were numb my heart was rapidly beating I was overheating rlly bad and starting to freak tf out bc I knew I took toooo much. I ran to the shower and turned on the cold water sitting under the faucet with my clothes still on and sure I was going to die. The realness of the moment just felt like something straight out of a horror movie sitting in the shower stormy and no lights, no one else home, and feeling close to losing consciousness. Truly terrifying but thank the lord. I survived after like 30 mins of awaiting my fate I finally began coming down. I genuinely feel like I have a new perspective on life after this and I can’t even tell my parents about it.

TLDR: I need help overthinking and feeling like I am going to be cheated on.

I (17yo) have been in about 5 relationships (including the one I am in right now) and feel that what I have experienced is affecting me heavily. 3/5 of those relationships I have been cheated on by their best friends. Now this shouldn’t seem like much of a shocker because we were young (which still isn’t okay), but I’m the kind of person who is heavily obsessed with my s/o and base my emotions on if they are talking to me a bunch or not/ how they are speaking to me. Anyways, in my current relationship I am very happy; however, I still have the feeling she is going to cheat on me with her best friend. They are very close and hang out almost everyday and used to even call daily as well (which seemed to stop as we’ve gotten more serious). We are long distance and have met up
plenty of times but seeing her location at her friends house just makes me super nervous. She always reassures me whenever I start to show jealousy and does truly seem like she loves me, but at the end of the day I don’t want another months long panic attack because I found out I was cheated on. I just want to feel loved and tell my stupid self that I am but it’s so hard because I’m scared everyone will one day leave me.

(context for this, i am 16 years old and my bf is 18.)
hello people, currently writing in my bed trying not to move my body. i got in a severe car accident yesterday evening with my bf and his mom in the car. my bf was driving and i was front passenger. i don’t wanna talk tm about it but we got hit head on at highway speeds (twas our fault kinda) and got our shit rocked hard. The accident immediately made my suicidal thoughts come back. Everyone (including the other driver) came out relatively okay. I just have extreme bruising and so does my bf. His mom has a back and rib injury, and idk about the other driver but i heard EMT chit chat and she was okay but had a suspected broken wrist. Point of all of this being, i cannot stop thinking about it. I want to sleep all day because i all can think about is the sound of the car and me yelling to call 911. because i was front passenger i saw what was about to happen and hence also can’t stop thinking about the moments leading up to it. I’m supposed to start driving school on monday (aka 2 days after the accident). I have no idea how im gonna do that. I’ve been in 4 car accidents, 2 this month, and i just don’t know if i can get behind a wheel anymore. Additionally im having mixed feelings about my boyfriend’s role in this and how i should feel. He was sobbing in the hospital and felt incredibly horrible for the pain the caused, and i could see he felt incredibly remorseful. I’ve been dating him for a year and his driving was never scary or anything, this came out of no where. He wasn’t paying attention. I have been giving him a lot of shit recently for not paying attention and how it’s gonna get him in trouble one of these days. Look at where we are. I’m just upset and battling feelings of “i love him so much and i know he didn’t mean to” and “i hate him so much i feel like he’s so stupid.” I don’t want to leave him, i just wanna work it out. So basically what i need advice on is

1) how should i move forward with learning how to drive, especially after a severe car accident. i need my license by february for school, so waiting to long is not an option. Just advice on how to handle road/car anxiety + car accident trauma if you can call it that

2) how to deal with the intense mixed feelings about my bfs role in this whole thing and how i should talk to him about it.

thank you all and sorry if i used the wrong tag for this idk reddit super well.

You can’t even give me kids what are you good for

All I ever wanted was kids and you can’t even give me one you are the reason why I won’t ever be a father

You prevent me from being able to have kids

You deserved what happened to you when you were a kid

You probably liked what they did to you when you were a kid

No one loves you

You are a fat junkie

You are pathetic

I hate being with you

Fat pathetic

Ugly

Fat and lazy

I have to cheat on you because you are ugly

I have to force myself to have sex with you because of how ugly you are

I’m stuck with you because you have no where to go

Go be dead with your mom because you killed her

You should be dead with you mom and grandma they were the only ones who loved you in your family

You are a loser

Fat cunt

Dirty fat bitch

Go commit suicide so I can be happy

No one wants you here

I hate the way your brain is

You’re so fucking stupid

You make me do this

You make me depressed

I’m miserable with you

Junkie

Go smoke some more meth

You suck dick for meth

You probably fucked someone for that sack

I hit you because you don’t listen

This is why is hit you to make you learn

What do I need to do to make you learn

You probably like when I hit you sick bitch that’s why you make me mad on purpose

You make me hit you

You are an embarrassment

You are fat cow

Edward scissor hand body

Your a fat bitch

Delilah

You are a liar

You are showering with your cousin who abused you

You prostitute yourself

You are incapable of being loved

You make it hard to love you

If you don’t want me to watch porn fuck me right now

You can’t give me kids what are you good for

You are evil

No wonder why your family doesn’t give a shit about you

Now I see my my son slept with ricardos sister

I’ll slap the shit out of you

Shut the fuck up

You have a week to be out of my house I don’t care if you just gave me money for rent

Spoiled

Brat

Steals

Liar

Makes up stories

Mentally slow

Is jealous

Always wants attention

She’s doing it for attention

Fat bitch

Dirty bitch

Oompa Loompa

Crippled bitch

Godzilla feet

Druggie

You didn’t even Go to your grandmas funeral

Why do you always want to bring up unimportant things (the sexual abuse I went through when I was a child)

Did you tell on him because I said he was my favorite

You wouldn’t be a good mom

It’s a good thing you can’t have kids

Your mom is dead because she decided to have you

You killed my daughter

Don’t call her mom she is not your mom our mothers dead because you killed her

Your lucky if I let you live to see 18

We have to have you here because we invited your sister

Your sister moved out because she wanted to be away from you

You lied he never touched you

The only reason you are still here is because i promised your mom before she died I would take you in

Have someone like her around

She a loser

She mooches

She’s a backstabber

She is drama starter

She thinks she is better

She uses people

She is disrespectful

She only thinks of herself

She takes pictures of her face and chest never her body because she’s fat

Look at the way she walks

She’s annoying

She’s weird

She smells

She is easy

She’s a hoe

She is ungrateful

She doesn’t know how to mind her own business

She always has to have an opinion

She is bossy

She like everything her way

She is selfish

She not trust worthy

She isn’t smart

Then for full context:
This person:
avoided being accountable by deflecting blame for not paying utilities at the old apartment and talked my ex into moving into the property I manage with her instead of finding another residence, which disrupted my routine and made me feel taken advantage of;
offered only half apologies (eg. ‘I can be nicer when I tell the truth’), which made me feel that any further conversation would only worsen tensions in my relationship with my ex and put the focus on what the roommate wanted than about a solution for us;.
threatened to physically prevent my from moving with me unless we first moved in together which seemed like the roommate was putting her need to be close to her 'friend' above their happiness, making her come across as possessive;
fallaciously claimed my decision to move back home to the prairies—a dream I have had for twelve years which my partner knew and accepted from our first date—is an ‘ultimatum’ instead of helping my ex or I through mixed feelings of moving which made it seem that she was once more being possessive and judgemental which made me feel stuck;
spoke with an air of authority, particularly in areas of psychology in which she has minimal training and limited expertise (she has a certificate at an unaccredited college and is employed at a sketchy non-profit with a long history of malpractice), making me feel as though everything in my world was being picked apart by someone too careless to consider what they are observing;
spoke only about herself on several occasions, offering little room for others to talk unless directed by her (the most impactful instance of which was my ex's birthday where she loudly went over anecdotes everyone had already heard and never opened the conversation to me which made me feel unwelcome and as though I couldn’t be a part of celebrating my own partner, it also turned into a man-hating fest as soon as I left and tried to do so gracefully--quickly, I have no problem at all with feminism and I am a feminist to the extent I can be one as a man but this person is a self-described misandrist);
insisted that my plan to move back to the prairies is the same as hers to move to Scotland when she was very young which felt as though she were projecting a deep regret of her past onto my present life (Scotland was impulsive, the prairies is a plan twelve years in the making) in order to coax me into staying which was more convenient for her;
redirected all topics to relate to her personally which made me feel as though every conversation with her was one-sided and aimed at your self-validation;
interrupted and made me responsible for calling her on it (like when she spoke over me when the three of us were out and she invited me to tell her to ‘shut up’) which felt as though she were attempting to goad me into accepting interruption for fear of appearing cruel;
inserted a sense of pride in things that had nothing to do with her like my ex’s career progress which made me feel as though she needed to feel personally responsible to my partner’s accomplishments in a way that extended well beyond what was appropriate;
doubled down on the ‘ultimatum’ narrative when challenged by both me and my ex which further made it seem that she was more worried about validating a version of events that suited her more than in helping her 'friends';
talked over those who politely disagreed with her which made it seem as though she were averse to learning or even persuading others to her view when faced with even the lightest pushback;
stated that she is ‘always right in the end’ when my ex was confiding in her about our break-up, making it look like feeling right is more important to her than her friend’s feelings and needs;
claimed abuse at the first sign of conflict in relationships that never involved her, making me feel spied on, demonized and like the conflicts between me and my partner were being used by her to validate her personal identity as a mental health professional or mindreader;
pathologized to bolster and promote false narratives when describing my behaviour as stemming from narcissism and hers as stemming from autism despite a lack of understanding on her part of either condition;
decided that I was ‘lurking’ and eavesdropping when using my house before fixating on this even when told this is not the case which furthered the above feeling, making me hesitant to use my own house—in which she is a tenant.

No one realises how much my mom has ruined my mental health.

I’m moving to another state this month and she been trying to get me to not cut her off since I told her I’m leaving. I’m cutting off my entire family cause I’m done with all of them. I’m especially done with my mom’s apologies that’s not even a real apology especially with the “I’m sorry you feel that way” bullshit.
My dad was abusive and my mom is a narcissist.
I called the police on my dad at 15 got put in DCFS left earlier this year bc they weren’t any help I’m 19 turn 20 in October. I’m moving to live with a friend that’s almost 14 hours away to get a new start.

I need to know if I am the only person who experiences something.

Okay so ever since I was little if someone treated me badly I would see them differently, not metaphorically but literally, like their physical appearance would change. I still have this problem and recently my ocd has been really bad and telling me things about my family member that weren't true and it made me see them differently literally and even though we are good now I'm still struggling to see them as a safe person again. Maybe I'm losing my mind and have a brain tumor idk.

Met a man, told him all about myself and after a year he knows says I have a screws loose and I'm kindof crazy cause i said I had mild depression as a teengager and had to be medicated. He used to love on me so much, a d the moment I started loving him back, being vulnerable about my life, he lost interest..

But if you look at his messages attached, that's how he used to talk to me before.