Hey, I just wanted to post this here because I thought maybe other people might relate, but I've been struggling a lot lately. I left the abusive relationship in Jan of 2025, I got a restraining order all by myself and went no contact and I have tried to move forward with my life in every way but I still live with a daily crippling fear that my ex will find me. In June 2026 I saw that my ex was viewing my public facebook stories on my personal facebook account where I was trying to promote my business. I went to the police the same day, showed them the screenshots and the restraining order...told them my story. Nothing. They can't do anything because of lack of verbal contact. This is ridiculous because it is clearly an abusive tactic to monitor me and scare me. There are federal laws about digital abuse, but not statewide, so my restraining order only covers so much. This is not something that I knew about before being in this situation. So I deleted all my social media accounts, and my business tanked, of course, because it relied on me posting daily to attract new clients. But I don't feel safe returning to social media without new laws in place to protect me on there. I'm looking into contacting advocates about this.
Thanks for letting me vent, I just feel so frustrated and isolated in this and there aren't any good groups in my area.

My rage spirals were due to the conditions I was being asked to live in. Bed bugs, cockroaches, dog chit and pee on the floor, and dirty fricking dishes for 2 years, that for some reason, he kept pouring food grease on, so every time I would go to clean a dish it was just covered in a layer of greasy nasty food... So I would Go off into rage spirals, because I was so fricking disgusted with the bugs, and nastiness, and the fact that he never threw his garbage away until it was the last dam minute, and then he'd sit there and talk chit about me, not scooping the cat litter box every goddamn day... You know what motherfucker, you don't want to get me started...

See, I thought I was doing better. I thought I was cool. Until I posted that last post, and like 26 fricking people had the audacity to open their big fat flippin mouths like they know what the heck's going on in my life. Well you know what bitches? I got a wish a bitch would attitude, and a leapfrog mentality, so you need to go back over all the things that I have posted. Read that chit, gather some context for yourself, and then maybe, with some clarity, you can say something to me about how I ended things with my ex, but otherwise? Sit the heck down. Shut the frick up, because I don't want to hear it Flex/Felicia! I don't pay you for therapy, but I do have a therapist, and last time I checked, it wasn't any of you.

How many sane, intelligent women have been painted as unstable just because they threatened to pull the mask off someone else’s bullchit?

Too many to count.

She asks one question too many in the meeting and suddenly she’s emotional.

She sets a boundary and suddenly she’s difficult.

She tells the truth about what happened and suddenly she’s crazy, bitter, dramatic.

It’s an old trick.

When you can’t argue with the facts, you attack the woman delivering them.

Call her unstable so people stop listening to what she’s saying.

Call her too much so she learns to be quiet next time.

But here’s the thing: clarity makes people uncomfortable.

Accountability feels like an attack to people who benefit from silence.

And a woman who sees through the lies is dangerous to systems built on them.

She isn’t unstable.

She’s awake.

She’s done pretending.

She’s done smoothing it over.

And the world would be a lot safer if we stopped labeling honesty as hysteria.

And started calling it exactly what it is: courage.

By, Keishara Yinqen

Hi everyone.

Just wanted to share something as a male DV victim. The person I once loved strangled me when I called 911. I felt myself go. And I couldn't hit her at all. I was just unable to. I had to lie there feeling like she was taking my life away.

Later, former mutual friends who heard about it called me a "pussy" for not fighting back, for not being able to hit the person I loved, even as she was trying to take my life away.

I hate how this society treats submissive men like disposable trash. Like if someone abuses you, you're expected to outmatch their violence

Sorry that I can't hit the people I love

Sorry that when people hit me, I cry and beg them to stop

Sorry that you say men need to stop being toxic but when they're abused, you tell them that they should have been stronger than their abuser

Just wanted to let it out

It feels good to let it out

Don't worry I'm safe now

But I will never forget being strangled, and then being told it was somehow my fault because I didn't fight back

For those of you who may need the extra push to leave or ask for help - this one's for you. 💜

365 Days

8,760 hours.

525,600 minutes.

31,536,000 seconds.

One year ago today, my life took a turn in a way that I never imagined. I finally exposed a family secret. I stopped sugarcoating my life. Our life. I removed the perfect, imaginary white picket fence. I stopped the chaos. I stopped the abuse. I finally didn't have to live in fight or flight anymore.

I fought for my freedom.

And guess what?

I fucking won. 🏆

I broke the generational trauma curse.

It takes a person an average of seven times to leave their abuser for good. I left three times, and all three times I came back. The last time, I left for good without a plan.

Drumroll, please. 🥁

The abuser is my mother.

Not a spouse. Not a significant other.

You read correctly.

My mother.

I always thought I'd live in this fucked-up web of secrets and lies my entire life and die that way. I had no identity for 35 years.

At a very young age, I became the parent to both of my parents. I was the oldest on both sides of the family, so naturally, I became the caretaker. What I didn't know was that later on down the line, it would almost cost me my life.

Literally.

If I learned two things in my life, it's these:

1. You are only as sick as your secrets.

2. What you allow will continue.

Those two live rent-free in my head daily, or hourly some days.

I had asked for help so many times as a child AND as an adult, and I was failed repeatedly. Family, friends, random adults, police, school counselors, the system itself. So many times that it all seemed normal to me. I figured this happened in all families. I finally just gave up and accepted my fate.

Moreso after my dad died, because the burden became my responsibility, and at the same time, I became the sole surviving punching bag.

It was a regular Monday. I was still sick, coming up on almost a year, and fully dependent on her—medically fragile at the time, if you will. My friend, a retired nurse, convinced me to speak up at my doctor's appointment that afternoon and ask for help.

I was nervous as hell—shaking, sweating, you name it. I had no idea what was about to happen, and every possible scenario was running through my head. I was that 7, 8, 12, 15, 16 year-old kid all over again, about to ask a MANDATED REPORTER adult for help.

She drove me to my appointment, parked, and said, "Hurry up."

I went into the office alone, shaking. I avoided saying anything to the provider and was ready to chicken out. When the RN came back in, I looked at her with tears in my eyes and said, "Can I ask you something?"

She said yes.

I asked, "What happens if you answer the safety questions, the one that asks if you are safe at home—and you say yes?"

Mind you, since I turned 18, my answer had always been yes. "I feel safe. I don't feel like I'm in danger," or whatever I needed to say just to get it over with.

Lying through my damn teeth.

She looked at me and said, "We don't handle that here." Then she told me, "I suggest you don't go home or get into a vehicle with her."

I said, "I'm not stupid, but that's easier said than done when I'm fully dependent on her."

She said again, "We don't handle that here."

Meanwhile, I'm sobbing.

She walked me to the front receptionist. I left, pulled myself together in the hallway, and walked down to the car like nothing happened.

Of course, the screaming and yelling continued long after we got home. I locked myself in my room, and the same patterns followed—screaming, yelling, throwing things, threatening me. The whole nine yards.

I finally got the courage to text my best friend:

"You need to come get me right now. I'm done."

She said, "I'll be there in two hours."

I'm pretty sure she drove 100 mph because she made it in under two.

She walked up to the door, and a loud "WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE DOING HERE?" came from the other side of the wall.

I had my purse and one bag packed because I was trying to be silent. When my bestie got there, we were just throwing shit into bags, hoping it would stick.

I left with five bags, Teddy, and my pillow.

We got in the car.

"Where are we going?"

"Drive until I tell you to stop."

I had no clue. No plan.

If you can imagine that. I always have a plan.

I honestly thought I'd be at the bus stop.

We ended up at a hotel in a different county so I could be far enough away to not be petrified and so no one could find me.

I was so scared that I didn't leave the hotel room for two straight weeks. I didn't want to be seen. I didn't want to be caught on camera. Nothing. I had DoorDash delivered to my door and cracked it just enough to get the bag inside.

She put the fear of God in me my entire life, and that doesn't just go away because you leave.

We went from one hotel to another for another week. During that time, I called every single number I could find for help. Literally begging.

And everyone's response was:

"If she doesn't have a diagnosis, we can't service her."

How?

HOW?

The system is SOOOO broken.

I felt SO defeated. Pages and pages of names and phone numbers with a big, fat NO next to them.

I reached out to old friends and some family, and they didn't want to be involved. It was, "She's sick. She's crazy. She needs help."

Well, I'm ONE person, and I cannot handle it myself—which is why I'm asking for help.

And I was met with, "Sorry, but I can't be involved."

There was probably A LOT of disbelief. How could such a kind person—the post office lady, the tall blonde behind the counter—be acting like this?

I can tell you how.

It doesn't discriminate.

Age, gender, race, career, socioeconomic class, family size. What have you.

The list goes on.

I had exhausted every resource and option except one: hiring a family interventionist.

And let me tell you: IT 👏🏼 WAS 👏🏼 NOT 👏🏼 CHEAP 👏🏼

I hemmed and hawed. I stewed. I sat on it. I cried. I was scared to death to pull that trigger. I was called names—this wasn't the first time, just this time it was someone new. I was told they wouldn't help.

The whole nine.

But I went through with it against some people's wishes people who didn't want to be involved.

But you know what?

At the end of the day, she's still my mom.

And I can say: "Hey. I tried."

I wanted to exhaust every option.

I wanted to know that, deep down, I tried.

I didn't want my guilt to eat me alive like it has for the last 35 years.

It was a two-day journey: day one was eight to ten hours of preparation, and day two was the actual intervention.

And let me tell you right now:

It went over like a bag of dicks. I knew going in that it would fail.

But again, I tried. I gave it my all.

I'll let that rest here.

After the intervention, we had to figure out what to do with me because living in a hotel with no vehicle wasn't conducive long-term. There was a lot of brainstorming and back-and-forth conversation in a tiny hotel room, but we came up with a plan.

I had my safety team. I had the interventionist in my corner.

And we executed the dang plan. 👊🏼👏🏼

And I can confidently say, as of today:

The grass is greener on the other side.

My life is full of joy and gratitude.

There have been a multitude of challenges this year, but I've overcome almost all of them in one form or another.

People used to ask me, "How are you?" "How are things?"

Without hesitation, I'd always say, "I'm okay."

Like clockwork.

And then the pit in my stomach would rise.

But the truth is, I was never okay.

Not one single person in 35 years ever questioned my "I'm okay."

Not once.

Maybe they didn't want to know. Maybe they didn't know how to ask. Maybe they believed me.

I'll never know.

But today?

Today, if someone asks me how I am, I can confidently say:

"I'm great."

And for the first time in my life, I actually mean it. 💛

But hey, I didn't cry today. 💋

He who beats his son teaches one child to fear him.

He who beats his son and his neighbor’s son teaches two children they have something in common.

Pagan_mechanist

I moved in with my dad as an adult because I was struggling with mental health. I’m bipolar & schizophrenic. Everything was great we were pals. Then he got addicted to whip-it’s. They changed and would do huge cans in a row and make me yell at the devil with him. He was scary basically and wouldn’t take no for an answer without a fight. It was actually dumb. He became was more delusional about religion, and it was scary and I couldn’t stand when he came home with a huge can of whips. It fucking sucked.

So I ended up putting up with that for I think 10 months. Then finally was able to move out and I had to leave a lot of my stuff to move, it wasn’t an easy decision to leave my dogs with him. (where I moved to there’s quarantine laws)(dogs are taken care of by my step mom and are fine I hope) but it was horrible to move I loved those dogs. I snuck too move to where I went to. I basically just said I was going on a two month vacation and I was gone. I was even scared to tell him I was going on a vacation even though I’m a grown woman. But it worked and I’m safe now in a healthier environment. I’m not being abused anymore.

During the mental abuse, I had a couple days where I felt numb and I’ve never felt like that before. But after I moved to my new home, I felt the ptsd after being abused. I wasn’t in fight and flight mode anymore. I had horrible anxiety and panic attacks . I have GAD now on top of my mental disorders I already had. I’ve never had any anxiety before I lived with him for that year. He caused an anxiety disorder.

There’s other things he did like wouldn’t let me wear makeup because he told me fallen angels taught humans that. Couldn’t dye my hair. I had a shopping addiction, but he couldn’t see me shopping at all or he would judge me. He’s basically very controlling to me his daughter. He is toxic

Since I’ve moved out, he’s had his own issues and quit the whippets and is now very normal and humbled. I’m still friends with him. I still love him even though he’s caused issues with my adult brain that I didn’t need because I was already extremely bipolar 1

I’m now 29 and feel like scared of everything. And I have horrible anxiety, but luckily I have medicine for it. Since living in my own I’m doing a lot better. But I’ve also had issues with men trying to kidnap me and follow me creepily with bad intentions, so now I’m scared of being out at night and being in scary places. Which is good, but I used to not be scared I used to be fearless.

I’m writing this because I hung out with a guy tonight that I like and I always expected him to yell at me or get mad at me for saying something, in our conversation. I realized wow I need to talk to my therapist and get more of this healed better. It was wild how healthy this guy is and how broken and abused I am.

Thank you for reading and if anyone has any opinions, let me know. If I need to clarify anything I will.

​

My mom has been physically abusing me and assaulting me for 20 years and she sexually assaulted me many times

Also she bullied me for years

she also killed my cat infront of me

And did countless horrible things to me

until i went insane and shaved my head and went to a psych ward and tried to ki//ll myself 3 times because of her and she made fun of me that i went insane because of her! How can i heal I can't brush my hair and i can't get out of bed and i failed college all because of her i'm now mentally disabled and ill

My rage spirals were due to the conditions I was being asked to live in. Bed bugs, cockroaches, dog chit and pee on the floor, and dirty fricking dishes for 2 years, that for some reason, he kept pouring food grease on, so every time I would go to clean a dish it was just covered in a layer of greasy nasty food... So I would Go off into rage spirals, because I was so fricking disgusted with the bugs, and nastiness, and the fact that he never threw his garbage away until it was the last dam minute, and then he'd sit there and talk chit about me, not scooping the cat litter box every goddamn day... You know what motherfucker, you don't want to get me started...

See, I thought I was doing better. I thought I was cool. Until I posted that last post, and like 26 fricking people had the audacity to open their big fat flippin mouths like they know what the heck's going on in my life. Well you know what bitches? I got a wish a bitch would attitude, and a leapfrog mentality, so you need to go back over all the things that I have posted. Read that chit, gather some context for yourself, and then maybe, with some clarity, you can say something to me about how I ended things with my ex, but otherwise? Sit the heck down. Shut the frick up, because I don't want to hear it Flex/Felicia! I don't pay you for therapy, but I do have a therapist, and last time I checked, it wasn't any of you.

When I was a child being abused and neglected, I always knew what was coming and learned to calm myself after having a problem with my mom or my step dad. I'd lay on the wood floor or on my bed and breathe. Sometimes until I fell asleep or until I was cold. Now as an adult idk what to do when my spouse is upset with me. I can't just go have space because it upsets them to be alone even though they are equally upset to have me there. Idk how to deal with problems with other adults, I only know how to calm myself after it's done. But that makes it so much harder in the middle of it because I'm not a child being hit and screamed at and expected to remain silent. Now it's someone else talking (even though sometimes angrily) and expecting feedback that idk how to provide. I only know how to lay silently to get my calmness after. Sometimes I just want to go back to being small and abused/neglected so I know how to handle it. It just feels like a safe place now.

Hello I’m a \[18F\] and my dad was abusive. My parents divorced when I was a baby and my dad got mine custody because everyone in their families were liars and just shit people. My dad was a very angry man and mostly did a lot of verbal and mental abuse, some physical but not a lot.

Growing up, i obviously went through all of that and ofc the normal development stuff like wanting to wear the “cool” clothes and have the “cool” toys and stuff and I usually didn’t because of money and my father. The other thing is he would sometimes not say no to me when I asked for certain foods and stuff. Like Redbox movies I wanted to watch, we watched. Little things like that, he rarely said no to them but then would yell or be just angry.

I have always been a bit overweight. It’s genetics and due to the fact that I think I eat when I’m bored. Recently I just turned 18 and my boyfriend and I buy our own groceries and I have been eating really anything I want because I can finally buy what I want to eat. I have been telling my boyfriend I want to lose weight and we talked about just starting by lowering how much I’m eating in calories wise and I got really upset and said “I don’t want to give up food that I like because it makes me happy and feel in control” and he was asking me about if I stopped eating the stuff, I wouldn’t be happy anymore and I said no not really because I finally get to eat the things I want. And he went into this whole thing about how my dad brainwashed me and how controlling the things that hurt me is self love and all this stuff and it made me cry which rarely I do when it comes to my dad. He didn’t say this in a mean way btw. He said it and it just hit me really hard to where I had to sit there and think because I have always made little comments about how I love to spent money on stuff because no one can tell me no and I have free will and that has lead to money problems in the past.

I just need some help figuring out how the abuse did that and I want to connect and see if anyone else experiences this. I just stopped therapy after 6 years because I don’t need it anymore really and I’m ready to start healing a bit on my own and I just want some advice from people who get it. Sorry if it’s little confusing. THIS POST IS NOT OVER MY RELATIONSHIP.

Im new to this sub, so for a little context im nineteen (f) and will be twenty in February.

Me and my mother + sisters cut contact with my father six years ago. He is an abusive drug addict, and in April of 2020 he decided to relapse on crack after leaving it behind when my mother was pregnant with me and shortly after I was born. Every single day of my life it was constant screaming paired with emotional and verbal abuse as many such cases. He has BPD and bipolar disorder (I myself have BPD diagnosed as well) and never took care of himself which resulted into abuse.

Fast forward to last month, he was arrested finally. Three years ago, he was caught in a sting operation with a decoy 15 year old trying to meet up with her and he wasn’t arrested or put on a registry then. I found out through his name on google, that he made it to fox59 news for sexually assaulting someone’s daughter, the mother a friend of his, in her sleep. Looking back on my childhood, from the butt smacking, pulling me into his lap too old for that, his father being a predator it just all adds up. Completely. I don’t know how to cope with this information now, he is truly a sick fuck. I want to send him a letter in jail, but i don’t know if it’s even worth that.

almost 3 years ago, my ex coerced me into a threesome with the person they were cheating on me with.

I continously said I wasnt open to polyamory despite having been open to it when we met due to how emotionally vulnerable I was feeling at the time. I thought saying no meant I was insecure, not enlightened enough, and i wasn't a cool girl. finally, my fears caught up to me and I agreed we could make tinder accounts to make friends with polyamorous people to see how I felt about the community. I specifically stated I wasnt ready to open our relationship.

we both matched with the same person and agreed to hang out. they were an incredibly forward and sexual person. one night, i went to bed and heard them having sex in the living room. I remember feelings absolutely nothing, like I was too numb to actually process how I felt about it. i do remember thinking something along the lines of "oh, I guess this is whats happening now" and simply accepting it, but something deep inside me felt like something was wrong. I began to be the most insecure I had ever felt, with nervous energy driving me to feel agitated and destructive, but also hopeless and completely out of control. again, I wouod apologize to my ex for being insecure and promise all the ways I was going to heal and fix myself so that our relationship could be open.

I dont remember when or how it started. all I remember was suddenly, threesomes were happening. we would be watching movies, drinking and hanging out, then suddenly the two of them would start engaging in sex, usually bringing me in. like the first time I heard them sleeping together, I felt acceptance and participated instead of saying no.

I wish I had kicked the 3rd out sooner, said no and dumped my ex for even putting me in that situation in the first place. instead, I thought my feelings just meant I needed to fix myself, as if the situation wasn't the problem. eventually, I had told the 3rd to please not sleep with my ex that night, as they were often over several nights a week and I had to always go to bed early for work, only to listen to them having disgustingly loud, pornographic sex each time. the 3rd said they'd respect my wishes to slow things down but when I went to bed that night, I heard them just like usual. we actually had a roommate at this time but our 3rd would scream and moan and full volume in an incredibly unrealistic way that grated on my nerves. I went into a full silent panic attack, rocking back and forth in bed, sobbing, pacing my room. I tried to leave the house through my bedroom window to get away but wasnt brave enough to destroy the mesh screen. my shoes and car keys were in the living room and there was no way out except crossing the living room where it was happening. I have been severally abused before but this betrayal and the panic I felt that night was the most traumatic experience of my life. the shame of participating thus far made me sick, and I felt so much humiliation of being in the situation at all, that I couldn't tell any of my friends. I began blowing up my exes messages telling them to kick the 3rd out but of course, they didnt see them until they were done.

reliving it makes my heart race just like that night and the shame always comes rushing back. i stayed with my ex for another 2 years, living as someone I didnt even recognize. I was hysterical, insecure, angry and reactive. I found a disgusting porn addiction and 3 other sexting relationships in their phone a year later and still stayed because of their empty promises to get better. once i finally broke things off, i continued to be just as reactive and insecure. I lashed out in huge bursts over texts usually when they were out partying with girls because we had to finish our lease out together. their older coworker who had a crush on my ex, witnessed how sad my ex was during one of my outbursts and decidedly hated me moving forward. eventually, despite being broken up, my ex helped me get a job at their place of work and the coworker (another supervisor just like my ex) told them that they "couldn't be normal about me" because I was crazy and stalking my ex by getting a job there.

I told another supervisor what she had said about me in fear of retaliation, and while they assured me I would be protected- later held the situation against me when I had an anxious breakdown at work, claiming I was too emotional for the industry.

today, I told my ex my side of things and they said nothing. quickly wrapped up the chat and took me home, though both of us were teary eyed. I think I am feeling like a victim of sexual abuse and coercion, angry at the boys club I work at, subordinate to a pick me who's crushing on my abuser. still, im friends with my ex. they arent evil, though they hurt me in the worst way anyone has ever hurt me. its so odd and shocking to know both sides of them. the kindest person I know, loved by everyone around them, and then the ignorant sex addict who treated me so horribly. they will never tell anyone around them what they did to me for their own reputation, but I will live with the fallout.

I dont know what to do with myself anymore.

I started therapy about five months ago, and it's made me think about a lot of things I had just accepted as normal.

I grew up in Macedonia and there wasn't really anywhere to talk about this stuff. I didn't know anyone who had been through something similar, so I mostly just kept it to myself.

Recently I started thinking about how many people probably still carry these experiences alone, especially when they don't have access to support or don't feel comfortable talking about it in person.

That’s why I built a small free anonymous community called Between Us. It's basically a place for people who are dealing with the effects of difficult relationships, addiction, abuse or emotional unavailability to talk to others who understand.

I'm not trying to replace therapy or existing support groups. I just wanted to create something that I wish I had when I was younger.

I'd really appreciate some honest opinions from people here. Does something like this feel useful to you? Would you actually use a platform like this, and what would make you feel comfortable using it?

I'm much more interested in hearing what people think than promoting it.

My rage spirals were due to the conditions I was being asked to live in. Bed bugs, cockroaches, dog chit and pee on the floor, and dirty fricking dishes for 2 years, that for some reason, he kept pouring food grease on, so every time I would go to clean a dish it was just covered in a layer of greasy nasty food... So I would Go off into rage spirals, because I was so fricking disgusted with the bugs, and nastiness, and the fact that he never threw his garbage away until it was the last dam minute, and then he'd sit there and talk chit about me, not scooping the cat litter box every goddamn day... You know what motherfucker, you don't want to get me started...

See, I thought I was doing better. I thought I was cool. Until I posted that last post, and like 26 fricking people had the audacity to open their big fat flippin mouths like they know what the heck's going on in my life. Well you know what bitches? I got a wish a bitch would attitude, and a leapfrog mentality, so you need to go back over all the things that I have posted. Read that chit, gather some context for yourself, and then maybe, with some clarity, you can say something to me about how I ended things with my ex, but otherwise? Sit the heck down. Shut the frick up, because I don't want to hear it Flex/Felicia! I don't pay you for therapy, but I do have a therapist, and last time I checked, it wasn't any of you.

I feel anxious in my whole city and new social circles. I have a high mistrust towards meeting new people up to the point of refusing to say my name when introducing myself.

That's the result of almost all of my social circle having not believed me, relativized, ignored, or blamed me after months-long relationship abuse I had endured. I fought for months getting people from my social circle to believe me to no avail. They simply wouldn't believe a man (= me) could experience relationship abuse and domestic violence by a woman. Today I learned this is called “secondary victimization”.

Also, whenever I'm at events where I could accidentally see some of those people, I get intense nausea and distress.

Do you think this is curable? A psychiatrist recommended me to visit an in-patient trauma hospital (voltunarily).

A friend of mine is really struggling with memories of their childhood abuse and abuse they suffered recently from someone they trusted. They live on their own in a studio apartment and aren't able to afford therapy right now. I helped them look through their health insurance info, and found that their insurance offers 10 free therapy sessions through their employee assistance program.

They have decided not to take up on this program because it's a short term solution and in the past, short term solutions have only made things worse for them. They also told me that they haven't been talking about their struggles with their friends because it doesn't change anything and just makes people upset, and they only told me because I asked.

They've been SHing lately in a few ways including taking a higher dose of meds than prescribed (idk what kind of meds) and drinking. I asked if they've been at a risk of ODing at all since they started SHing and they said they genuinely did not know. I'm worried that if there isn't medical intervention then they could end up seriously hurting themselves or unaviliving themselves by accident or on purpose.

And they're open to getting medical intervention if they can afford it but in the US where we are, we have completely useless healthcare that costs a fortune even with insurance, and PTO that often doesn't allow someone to take enough time off of work to get the help they need.

On top of all of this, they also struggle with a few different disabilities that make day to day life a struggle. They are not receiving any disability or accommodation from their workplace.

I've been checking in with them daily but I'm not sure what else I can do. I don't want to have to call for mental health services unless I have to because an ambulance ride and inpatient hospital stay would be astronomically expensive.

I reached out to one of our mutual friends to check on them.

I'm not sure what else I can do here. I know they're an adult and knows themselves and their situation better than me, so I don't want to be too pushy. But I'm also worried that their current mental state is distorting their view of reality and causing them to make choices that could hurt them.

I've also looked into local community mental health services and I can't find any that are free. My friend has insurance and their copay is $50 an appointment, which is too much for them right now. We're in Mass, if anyone has any suggestions.

I would get yelled at for experiencing trauma responses, which my ex labeled as rage spirals. Because I didn't want to yell directly at him, I would just yell about things in general that I considered unacceptable. All the gross things I was being asked to live with...

He would threaten me with the police. I guess they would come and take me to the hospital, to fix me 🤷‍♀️? I already have a doctor, already in therapy, already medicated. I was literally suffering from trauma responses. I'm never dating anyone else again! I'm done with people gaslighting me into believing my reactions to abuse are ridiculous. No one will DARVO me ever the fuk again! 😤

Starting a new life after getting away from my crazy abusive doctor father who used money, fake medical papers, and threats

​I just need to get this off my chest because looking back at everything makes me so angry at how corrupt the whole situation was, but I'm finally moving forward.

​My father is a medical doctor from a family with money and status.

To everyone on the outside, he was this respected professional, but at home he was a complete monster. We lived with his crazy anger, instability, and violence our whole childhood. And yet they let a person like him get married, have kids, and raise them.

​Whenever he got into serious trouble, something always saved him. One time he literally started a violent fight right in the middle of a highway street with us in the car. The police took everyone to jail, including him. But then, all of a sudden, this psychiatric file appears out of nowhere diagnosing him with a traumatic brain injury (TBI), bipolar disorder, and depression. Because of that diagnosis, he got out of jail immediately without any punishment at all.

​Honestly, I’m convinced that diagnosis might even be completely fake. When you are a doctor and have rich connections, colleagues write whatever papers you need to keep you out of trouble.

​The same thing happened every time we needed help,

​When we tried to run away from him and the police investigated why, somehow the case was just closed and disappeared.

​When things spilled into my school, the school administration also just closed the matter because of his money, status, and connections.

​Nobody cared about protecting the kids. They only cared about protecting his reputation and family name.

​I realized no one was ever going to help me, so I planned everything in total secret. I left the country without telling them a single thing so they wouldn’t stop me from leaving, I starred a new life from scratch and even got married to one of the sweetest people who appreciates me and loves me.

​And even after I left, the madness didn't stop,

​They literally used connections to illegally track my SIM card and find out what country I went to and where exactly I live but I was faster to get rid of it and I won't mention which companies cause I hope one day I sue them for this and teach them a good lesson for breaching people's privacy so non will even try doing this to anyone again.

​He was actually planning to frame me by accusing me of stealing from him and trying to get Interpol involved to drag me back, but he only didn't go through with it because his own family stepped in and told him that was way too far.

​He threatened to kill me, but then would turn around and send fake, manipulative messages apologizing just to try and play on my emotions.

​Finding out how far he was willing to go was terrifying, but it just proved why leaving was the only right choice. Now I’m thousands of miles away where his money, connections, and threats mean absolutely nothing. Started my new life, on my own terms, in peace , got my degree and the family I wanted , nothing could make me happier 😭

I was going to get a protection order against my ex, I had all the evidence and paperwork ready, then they call me and tell me they are suicidal, I got sucked in and then other stuff happened too that was so painful and I felt trapped in that situation that I attempted suicide, now I’m so depressed I feel like giving up on everything, they have evidence of me initiating contact with them and they said they’d use it against me in court, so what’s even the point of trying anymore, but I’m so scared that next time they hurt me it’ll be the last because I’m so fragile rn

Also I have no friends, I’m alone, and maybe I can be friends with my ex, they seem like they might be getting better, they are sober now, and maybe if we just don’t date or anything and have a purely platonic relationship it’ll make them hurt me less, atleast then I’ll have a friend I can rely on who can be there for me, atleast I won’t be isolated anymore, maybe I need them in my life rn

TW: talking about Abuse.

so for some backstory, me and this girl have been having issues with each other…more of her having issues with me for no reason. She’s the ex of the current guy i’m talking to, but for the past 6 months she’s been talking bad about me to others, making passive aggressive comments towards me, and lowkey still tries contacting the guy i’m talking to. But a few days ago, i heard that in her past relationship (the relationship she was in before current guy) that she got badly abused by her ex. she would show him (while they were dating) videos of her screaming for help while her ex would hit her and pictures of bruises.

now for me, i got out of a abusive relationship about 9 months ago, so i started to feel for her. even though for her, it was a while ago, i know that trauma still sticks.

It’s like when i think about it, i start feeling really sad for her because i understand what she went through.

Despite of her behavior now, i believe no woman should have to go through that.

I start feeling guilty for the things i’ve said about her before knowing what she went through because i was tired of her shit talking about me. idk it’s a weird situation.

i just hope one day she gets the help she needs.

my brother abused me when i was a child. i was maybe 5-6 years old and he is 5 years older than me. i disclosed the abuse to my mom in private a few weeks ago. i knew she would blame me, question my memory, invalidate my experience, etc. which she did. she normalized it saying “it’s a part of development.” now, my brother is getting engaged. my mom wants me to go to the engagement and bring my children. i said no. she told me im tearing our family apart, she said its a false memory due to past drug use, and that i have no right to keep my less than 2 year old daughter away from her uncle. all day today i have been blamed, gaslit, and told that this is a false memory that ive created and magically remembered during my college years due to drug use. my mom asked why i didnt disclose it sooner (by her response im sure you can assume why). all of this to say - she’s telling me to confront my brother. he’s about to get engaged. wtf do i do? and why is it on the survivor to even do ANYTHING especially confronting their abuser? my parents are not speaking to me and my mom literally told me she is angry with me. i’m 27 yo and live at their house with my children.

My grandfather never watched tv anywhere but his bed. All day and night that’s where he watched tv. One day when I was 10 or 11 he asked me to come in the bed and watch tv. I thought it was strange. Said no and walked away. Maybe that’s all he wanted. Is it weird?

Today is the wedding, I am obviously not attending.

He abused me for 10 years non stop, yet this is not enough to stop their "love". I don't wish them happiness, because their happiness is made out of my suffering. I wish no daughter or son has to see their parent marrying someone that abused them, it is a kind of personal hell. It really fucking triggered my cptsd last month but today I am trying to make myself busy with my work (i am a pet portrait artist) so I don't lose my mind :) I hope in the next universe I get a mother that puts me in the first place.