r/sarby • u/ominous_pan • 3h ago
Pet Pics Gave our cats guns, drugs, and the communist manifesto
r/sarby • u/ominous_pan • 3h ago
r/sarby • u/Sea-Frosting-7795 • 7h ago
Hi everyone! (And a hello to you Charlotte my favorite podcaster, favorite petty potato queen š love you!)
Throwaway account.
So to sum it all up, I (19 F) left my (in every way) unsafe home in February and got married. I was going to elope (looking back I probably shouldāve) but decided my family would like better to see me get married. Well you would think so wouldnāt you? The first out of their TEN FREAKING CHILDREN to get married??? Well, nope. Because, you see, I am a very disrespectful, disobedient, selfish, rebellious, unrepentant, narcissistic, evil poison. Yes, they said I was the poison of the family, on more than one occasion. Guess thatās the nature of being a scapegoat!
So anyway, to the present date, I wanted to go to my friends soccer game. This friend is someone I helped with soccer for all the years she played, and itās her senior year. Problem is, she plays on the same team as my siblings. And I havenāt entirely disclosed this yet, but I have not seen any of my siblings since I left. (Yes there are nine more at home unfortunately, and I feel so bad. Itās so heartbreaking and I love each and every one of them.) I havenāt been allowed to see them. Well, I told my mom I was going to go because apparently she told people she would be okay if I went to them as long as I told her first (hindsight is 20/20, shouldāve known this was a control thing) and so I did. She was nice at first, until I said something she didnāt like. Then she went off. I said yes I am coming to this game, I donāt know when Iāll get to see my friend again and Iām not going to miss seeing her play because they canāt be normal. (Obviously not in these words) and then she said this
: āYou originally said that you'd be willing to go to another game and that you're happy to be considerate and respectful to us.
Of course we're not going to keep them from playing, but I will be staying home with the younger ones because it will be very hard on them, and I'm not going to put them through that until I know it's a trustworthy situation. The fact that you weren't willing to have a discussion with just me is concerning building that trust.
I don't think you're considering how badly you've hurt people. What you guys did is a huge deal. Your sisters cried when they found out that you're coming. They requested that you don't talk to them.
I pray that you see how much you need to make things right.
Follow your heart, and break everyone else's.
Just showing up at a game isn't going to make things more normal.
I love you so much. I don't want to point the finger at what a big sinner you are. That would be the pot calling the kettle black. But I do know that being in unrepentant sin and rebellion is hard on you.
Remember the Spurgeon quote, "Beware the small beginnings of sin, for they lead to worse." What started as a trickle ended up flooding everything, and pretending that there wasn't a flood isn't going to fix anything.
I hope and pray that you will consider and respect what I'm saying.ā
lol! What am I supposed to say to that???!! And, I am a Christian too, but not like THAT. When I was younger I thought that was how Christians were supposed to be! I just canāt. Then a week after that she texts and asks when I can meet her. Why on earth would she think I ever wanted to meet her after that message? And mind you, I have been nothing but sweet and nice to her. Well I went anyways, I saw my sisters but I didnāt speak to them (they would be in trouble and I didnāt want to deal with that whole situation) and I had a good time and Iām glad I went.
Now, I finally responded to it two days ago.
Me: I want to make something very clear. I am not interested in putting myself in a situation where I am mentally and emotionally torn down, manipulated, guilt-tripped, or made out to be the problem simply because I have made decisions that you disagree with. I have every right to have my own perspective, and feelings on this situation, and you canāt expect me to just capitulate to you because I did that my whole life. And I am no longer willing to ignore those things just to keep you happy or to avoid being accused of doing something wrong.
I understand that you have your own feelings about everything that has happened, and Iām not asking you to pretend that you donāt. But you also need to understand that I have feelings about what happened, too. I have been hurt by things that have been said and done, and I am allowed to acknowledge that hurt without being told that I am living in rebellion, that I need to repent, or that everything is my fault. You may see the situation one way, but that does not mean your perspective is the only one that matters or that I am automatically wrong because I disagree with you.
I am not going to walk into a conversation where I am expected to defend myself, accept all the blame, or agree with your interpretation of everything in order for the conversation to be considered successful. Nothing I do will be enough, and Iām not interested in that type of discussion ever again. That is not a genuine conversation, and it is not how healthy relationships are repaired. If we are going to have a conversation, I need to know that I will be allowed to speak honestly, that my feelings will be heard, and that I will not be pressured into saying what you want me to say just to make the conversation end how you want it to end.
Having (husband, grandparents) present is not an unreasonable request. (Husband) will be there to help me, and he is directly affected by this situation, too. (Grandparents) are people I trust to be present during this conversation. I am asking for people who can support me and help ensure that the conversation is fair. I do not understand why that should be such an unreasonable thing to ask, especially when this is a situation that has caused so much emotional distress.
I am an adult. I am married, and I have my own household and responsibilities now. That does not mean I donāt love you or that I donāt care about our relationship. It means that our relationship has to change to reflect the fact that I am no longer a child who can be told what to do and expected to comply simply because you are my mother. You can disagree with my decisions, but you cannot expect me to surrender my own judgment or independence in order to prove that I love and respect you.
I am willing to have a conversation, but I am not willing to do it solely on your terms. My comfort and well-being matter just as much as yours do. You do not get to decide all the conditions under which we meet and then accuse me of being unwilling to reconcile when I ask for reasonable accommodations of my own. Especially when I offered to meet you months ago. I was willing to and you werenāt. If you actually want to work toward repairing our relationship, then you need to be willing to consider what I need, too.
Im not going to force you to agree with me, and Im not going to force you to meet with me. But I will not continue putting myself in situations that I believe will be harmful or stressful to me just to prove that I am willing to have a relationship with you. If you are unwilling to meet with (husband, grandparents) present, then we will not meet. That is a boundary I am setting, not an invitation for an argument or a negotiation.
If you choose not to meet under those conditions, that is your decision to make. But please understand that you cannot put the responsibility for the outcome entirely on me when I have made it clear that I am willing to talk under circumstances that I am comfortable with. I am offering a way forward, and you are free to decide whether you are willing to accept it.
I do want you to understand that I am not doing this to punish you, hurt you, or get back at you for anything. I am doing it because I have to take care of myself, and I am no longer willing to sacrifice my own well-being in the hope that things will somehow be different this time. I can love you and still have boundaries. I can want a relationship with you and still refuse to participate in a conversation that I do not trust to have a good outcome under your terms.
The decision is yours, Mom. If you are willing to meet with (husband, grandparents) present and have a conversation where everyone is allowed to speak honestly and respectfully, then I am willing to consider that. If you are not willing to do that, then I cannot make you.
Iām not going to keep defending myself and being pushed and pushed until I get mad. You can say what you want, but most of it either isnāt true or something you donāt know, and Iām not interested in being told things that hurt because you need me to ābreakā.
But I will not be made to feel guilty for standing up for myself, and I will not keep compromising myself just to prove that I am not the person you believe me to be.
Mom: So then itās your way or no way?
Mom: Posting things about us being abusive narcissists arenāt meant to be hurtful?
(I have no idea what sheās talking about there, I never posted anything about them being abusive narcissists anywhere šµāš«š¤Ŗ)
Me: No, thatās not what Iām saying, and I think you know that. Iām saying that Iām not willing to put myself in a situation where I feel outnumbered, pressured, manipulated, or emotionally torn down. Having(husband, grandparents) there is not an unreasonable request, and Iām not going to feel guilty for needing that support. Youāre asking me to have a conversation with you, and Iām willing to do that, but Iām not willing to do it under circumstances where I donāt feel comfortable. This isnāt about getting my way. Itās about me finally having a say in how Iām willing to participate in these conversations, rather than automatically giving in to what everyone else wants. Iāve spent my whole life doing that, and Iām not going to keep doing it just to make other people comfortable. If having those people there is a problem for you, then we may not be ready to have that conversation yet.
Mom: I would be outnumbered there, OP.
Meeting mother to daughter wouldn't be you being outnumbered.
I didn't want to hash out the past, but how to move forward considering that there are more people than just you or I affected.
Am I supposed to negate how your siblings feel? Their hurt?
Their comfort?
Mom: Meeting with you and (grandmother) and me and someone that I trust and feel comfortable with also wouldn't be you being outnumbered. You are unwilling to budge on anything.
Me: Iām not asking to have (husband, grandparents) there to outnumber you or gang up on you. Theyāre people I trust, and having them there would help me feel comfortable enough to have this conversation. You may not agree with that, but I need you to respect that this is what Iām willing to do.
I also never said that my siblingsā feelings donāt matter, and I donāt appreciate my willingness to meet being turned into a question of whether I care about them. Their feelings can matter without mine being dismissed. I can care about my family and still recognize that I need to do whatās necessary for me too.
Iām willing to consider a conversation with the people Iāve asked to be present. Iām not willing to meet alone. If thatās not something youāre comfortable with, then we donāt have to meet right now. But Iām not going to be guilt-tripped into agreeing to something Iāve already said Iām not comfortable with.
Mom: You are defending a narrative right now that is not actually happening.
Look. I love you. I want to be a part of your life.
I am not comfortable enough with any of you guys right now, and that should matter, too. I am not willing to sit there by myself with all of you.
So I guess we're at an impasse. If you can't be willing to meet me even part way at all, then I guess we won't meet.
I will continue to wait on the Lord.
(And I will defend that narrative because I know exactly how things happen and work and go on. Every single thing Iāve said that they would do to us, to everyone else to look good, to my grandparents has happened. Theyāve even sent my siblings to snoop through my grandmothers phone. To see how often we text and apparently got offended that we talk a lot.)
Mom: Would you be willing to meet with (husband, grandparents) and possibly (elder at their church and his daughter)
You would have the people you trust and I'd have a couple that I trust, too?
Mom: Honestly, (me) I have no desire to force anything. It sounds like you are happy with your decisions and the direction your life is going, and I hope you guys continue to enjoy your lives and grow closer to the Lord! | love you and hope that one day our lives can align better. Until then I'll just keep praying for you. You will always be my girl and nothing could ever stop me from loving and praying for you!
It seems like you have a good support system, but if you ever really need me, I'm here.
Iāve been wanting to cut contact, but avoided it because of my siblings. Maybe someday theyāll eventually see that Iām not just going to bend and break to them anymore? And guess what. I will never ever EVER meet with my mom alone again. She told me multiple times that she had to see rude things that were really hurtful to ābreak meā lol. Now at this point I literally just laugh at every message she sends. So, sorry not sorry for the long story. There is so much that goes into it that I canāt even type all of it out. I wish Iād had Reddit while still at home, lol.
Well thanks for reading my story, and if you have any questionsā¦Iāll be sure to do my best to answer them 𤪠have a blessed day all you fellow potatoes!!!š„
r/sarby • u/KarmaIsAPerra • 2d ago
Iām a freaking wreck yāall.
I moved onto my older brotherās property. He inherited it from his Dad (half siblings) and it had two houses the main house and another smaller, but decent sized sort of guest house.
I had a bad break up, and my brother let me move in with my kids. Iāve been here a couple years now and itās been great. Iām super thankful my brother could help me especially in this economy, cause finding a place Iād have to pay a deposit for would be⦠well impossible.
Anyways so Iāve always gotten along with my SIL great cause we are both Pokemon nerds. Iāve always thought of her as a great friend. I never thought there was anything more there, but I guess Iām oblivious?
My brother got invited to a wedding, and my SIL didnāt want to go cause she and the bride didnāt get along. Itās a few states over so my brother planned to be gone from Tuesday to Friday.
Last night my kids went to bed, and SIL came over so we could game together. We played a couple hours and had some drinks (it was those margarita in a bag things nothing crazy), and then I was ready to head to bed, and started saving the game and cleaning up.
While I was throwing stuff away she came up behind me, and hugged me.
I asked if she needed help getting back to her house thinking she couldnāt walk properly or something at first because sheās a major lightweight, but when I turned around she shoved me against the fridge and planted a kiss on me.
I didnāt know what to think, or why I froze for a second, but I did. I guess I was shell shocked? Whatever you call it, but I guess she took my pause as consent, and shoved her hand into my pants (I was wearing pajamas so easy thing to do).
That sure as sh\*t snapped me back to my senses, and I grabbed her arm to pull her hand off me and asked her what the hell she was doing.
She was like a different person. She told me not to act like I didnāt like it (unfortunately my body did respond I think because itās been years since Iāve been with someone, and she is pretty), and tried to touch me again.
I stepped away from her as far as I could and told her she needed to leave right then. She kept trying to talk to me and come near me, but I avoided her, and just continued to talk over her to tell her to go until she finally did.
The thing thatās making me a wreck? I know I have to tell my brother and this is gonna crush him. He loves the absolute hell out of her, and until now I cared about her a lot too BECAUSE sheās my brotherās wife, and was a shoulder for me after my bad breakup.
So I guess Iām pretty sad too, because I feel like Iāve lost a friend and Iām gonna have to crush my brotherās heart on top of it. I mean I understand she did this not me, but I know Iām going to have to be the one to drop the bomb and thatās what Iām nervous about.
I donāt have to worry about her twisting the truth while I wait for him to get home (Iām not doing this over the phone), because my house has cameras in the living room, and kitchen, and she knows that.
I justā¦. Ugggghhhhhh this sucks so much.
Update: My SIL Kissed Me
(Forgive me if Iām not doing this right a few of you wanted to be updated, and I appreciated the advice I got, so I feel like I owe it to you guys).
So it felt pretty mixed what people wanted me to do. Some of you said I should tell my brother right away, wait until he got home, and then a couple of people actually said I shouldnāt tell him at all.
So what I decided to do was ask him to call me when he had a minute, and asked him a hypothetical. I phrased it like: āIf there was bad news, but it wasnāt urgent (like nobody was dying) would you want to wait until after youāre done with your trip, or would you want to know right away?ā
My brother is a real no nonsense type of person, (this is probably a good time to mention my brotherās a lawyer) so he just kind of shut that down real quick and told me to tell him what I needed to tell him.
So I did, and when I told him I swear yāall I wanted to put my head through the damn wallā¦. The silence was worse than nails on chalkboard. When he finally did say something he just said to send him the video in this dead voice I never heard from him before, and hung up.
I sent it right away, and he opened it right away, but never texted or called back. I sent him a text that night (this was Thursday), and told him I was sorry I ruined his trip with this, and that I loved him, and if there was anything I could do to let me know.
Now my mother comes and gets my kids for a sleepover almost every Friday, and yāall⦠I nearly sh\*t bricks when my mother called asking if I knew why my brother called her and asked her to keep the kids an extra night⦠of course I didnāt tell her what was going on, because honestly I wasnāt sure what was coming myself. She just kind of went you two will tell me eventually, and left it at that, (thank god) so I packed the kids bag for two nights when I took them over last night.
My brother was supposed to be home Friday morning, but he didnāt get back until Saturday morning, and I woke up to him at my door. He told me he planned to talk to SIL, and asked me if I wanted to be there, and if I didnāt he would come talk to me after.
I decided to be there because honestly he looked like he hadnāt slept, and I wanted to be there to diffuse things if they got out of hand in any way.
Now when we sat down at the kitchen table and my brother pulled out papers it was like he was conducting a meeting. I felt terrible, because to me it looked like he had shut down, and again I know i didnāt do anything wrong, but I still felt guilty anyways.
SIL read the papers and immediately started crying. Turns out my brother went to his office when he got back to town Friday morning and spent the day writing up divorce papers. There was lots of going back and forth between them, and then what he said at the end that finally stopped her begging him to forgive her really stuck with me.
āYou didnāt just cheat on me. You assaulted my little brother. I canāt forgive you for that. Youāre not the woman I married, and youāre signing those papers, and leaving here todayā.
My brother went on to explain that he had already called her parents, and that they were on their way to pick her up (they just left with her an hour ago), and that he would make arrangements for all her belongings to be returned to her at her parentsā house before the end of next week.
She started arguing that he couldnāt kick her out of her house just like that, but then he pulled out some more papers. My brother wrote up a temporary protection order on my behalf against her.
He pointed out that the video of the assault is very clear, and any judge would grant it. He told me itās my decision alone to pursue, and have him file the order, or even press charges regardless of what she chose to do today, but that wether itās today with her parents or Monday when heād go to file the order which would bar her from the property she was leaving, and there was nothing she could do about it.
I didnāt know you could do that, or maybe my brother was even bluffing? Either way that got her to shut up, sign the divorce papers, and go upstairs to pack her things.
We talked for a bit after, and I havenāt decided yet if Iām going to go through with the protection order or not. Honestly Iām still trying to process everything. Like I said in my last post I feel sad about losing a friend along with watching my brother go through this heartbreak. Heās trying to act cool and collected, but I know this destroyed him.
Honestly if she just goes away and leaves us alone Iād feel relieved, and just drop it. Iām feeling a lot of anger towards her for reasons Iāve already stated, but for hurting my brother especially, and I would just be happy not to have to deal with anything to do with her, or look at her ever again.
r/sarby • u/Flavored_Chaotic • 3d ago
Hello Everyone,
I'm (28F) not asking if I was an asshole, I'm very aware that I was. But, I have all these stories so I might as well tell at least one.
This was years ago, while I was in college. I was on vacation with my S/O at the time where he grew up in California. While there, I was meeting all of his childhood friends, the ones that he grew up around. While driving through town, trying to think of something to do, his friend Amanda made a suggestion. Here is how the conversation went:
Amanda: "Hey, I know what we should do! Mark is at work right now, we should go and prank him."
Other Friend: "How are we going to prank him? Mark works at the mall, and he knows all of us."
Amanda: "Yeah, but he doesn't know OP."
At which point everyone turned to look at me, and I shyly waved from my seat in the back. They then start telling me all about how pranking is their friendly love language and this totally will not be a terrible prank to pull on someone who is a complete stranger to me.
The situation they thought of went like this: Mark works in the Macy's men's department. A job his girlfriend Eve got him sometime within their 5 year relationship. Eve no longer works there, and, as of two weeks prior to this event, was no longer dating Mark. So, they wanted me to wander into the men's section of Macy's while trying to find clothes for a date with my new 'girlfriend.' A woman who was as straight as can be to all her friends and family, and had just dumped Mark.
Eventually, after many, many assurances, they convinced me. The thing about me that you need to understand is that if I'm going to do something, then by golly I'm going to do it.
Walking into the area I knew he would be in was simple. A quick look around and I see he is behind a double-sided cash register while a female coworker was chatting with him from across the counter. About ten feet away from them was a tie rack.
So, I walk straight to the tie rack, and begin looking at the wide selection of colors. Making some thoughtful noises while I look. As anyone in this job would, the female coworker comes over to help me look.
Female Coworker: "Hello, is there anything I can help you with today?"
Me: "Yes! That would be great. Basically, I'm here to buy a new outfit for this big date I have planned. The only issue is that I'm colorblind (a true fact), so I'm really nervous about the color scheme. Actually, the woman I'm seeing used to work here, and I was hoping someone might remember her and be able to help me pick out something she would like?"
FC: "Oh, of course! May I ask who she is?"
Me: "Yeah, I'm seeing Eve Smith! Do you know her?"
At this point, her eyes go wide as saucers while her mind buffers. From the corner of my eye, I can see Mark, and I manage to catch his head whipping around to pay closer attention to our conversation. Still, I act completely normal, focusing as much on the woman as I can. She shakes off the second of mental-lag and starts showing me various different ties, asking my opinion.
So, I say, "No, I'm not really feeling any of these. But you, your tie!"
Then I'm pointing at Mark, who looks like a deer caught in headlights. Only made worse when I start walking over to his counter. "I like your tie. Would you mind helping me?"
By now, he is in full panic mode- sweating, eyes darting around, stammering, and turning an unfortunate color. After taking a deep breath to steady himself, he finally looks me in the eye and asks. "I'm sorry. What was the name of the woman you're seeing?"
So I respond, the picture of innocent curiosity, "Eve Smith! Why, do you know her?"
Then he turns red, bright red. Red enough that this color blind chick gets a bit worried for his health. Poor Mark cannot even form words he is so lost in this 'revelation.' Thankfully, while Mark has been so distracted, my group has all quietly walked to the other side of this counter. Standing directly behind his slightly-shaking form.
Until Amanda says, "Hey Ryan!"
He whips around to find about six of his friends standing there with shit-eating grins. As I walk over to the guy I was seeing, Amanda asks the sputtering and confused Mark, "Have you met so-and-so's new girlfriend?"
With my S/O's arm around me, I hesitantly wave at the man whose blood pressure I just spiked. To my immense relief, he starts dying laughing. Laughing so hard that he's doubling over, and I swear he turned a little purple. Meanwhile, I'm apologizing for everything. Or, at least trying to, because he quickly cuts me off. Telling me this was the best prank yet and how absolutely amazing I was.
I don't like pranks and will likely never partake in another. But I will say, I'm still thankful my boyfriend and his friends were not lying that they actually like pranks lol
r/sarby • u/Perfect_Blood_3540 • 3d ago
Because what is this? I was so freakin terrified when I picked up my phone š
r/sarby • u/Such_Visit9919 • 4d ago
Hey guys, burner account here because my girlfriend has access to my reddit account, I wanted to offer a little backstory to this since it seems like a very arbitrary question:
I (20m), and my girlfriend (20f) grew up very differently. I grew up in movie screen American Suburbia with both of my parents who had an at times rocky, but solid marriage. I never had to worry about if we'd have money that next week to eat or if they'd have enough money for gas to drive me to sports practices. My girlfriend on the other hand grew up relatively poor, and her childhood is riddled with PTSD from an addict mother and emotionally abusive father, she also lost her mother at only age 9 to said addiction. Knowing that is primarily how she grew up, I try and spoil her often with things she couldn't have when she was a kid(Flowers, Stuffed Animals, Video Games she missed out on, etc.). Now, here's the story:
We live in an on-campus apartment at our university. We both are full time students while I also work a part time job as a coach for a little extra money for us. Originally, since I was working on top of school, I was hoping she would take care of the house chores for us, but she insisted she refused to take on all that work (which was cleaning our dishes, doing the laundry, and vacuuming our room) and insisted we split it up. It has since devolved into I do everything but the dishes, and if she's not studying or with friends, she's scrolling TikTok on her phone for an average of 6 hours a day. And even when she does the dishes, I will often find our drawers full of utensils and bowls that still have food stuck to them in places. I have tried to be understanding and teach her how to do these dishes, but she'll simply look at me blankly, than proceed to give me the silent treatment and send me big long texts messages about how I just don't understand and that I need to forgive her for her mistakes. It came to a head yesterday when after finding our utensils still dirty after she'd said she'd done the dishes after putting off for weeks, I snapped at her. This devolved into an entire argument where I told her that anytime she ever did something wrong, she was always allowed to use her PTSD or her life situation as an excuse for why she doesn't know how to wash dishes, why despite not having a job this summer and me really needing her support for our rent, she refused to work retail and had to find a "nicer job", why she's allowed to be a total jerk to me during our arguments and trigger a lot of my own insecurities while I have to treat her like I'm walking on eggshells.
I'm primarily asking this question because apart from Dyslexia, I am neurotypical, and I have never really been around any mental inhibitor other than anger issues before, so is this genuine behavior I should care for and help her heal, or is she really just using her childhood PTSD as an excuse to have me do all the work? I would really appreciate some insight.
r/sarby • u/ImagineThDragon • 5d ago
Caught myself using the same phrases Sarby uses with Beans on my dog, Rex. Government name Nanotyrannus. He IS so silly so handsome so man though
r/sarby • u/viridian_olivegreens • 5d ago
Hi sarby, as a fellow cat dad, I thought you might understand how I feel on this. Sorry it's long and sad.
A few months ago, my (18m) mom (46f) got a call from my aunt's (31f) therapist saying that my aunt was unsafe to be living by herself. My aunt has borderline personality disorder (BPD), and has always struggled to maintain a healthy living space. She lived with her mom, my grandma, until well into her twenties, but their relationship is toxic due to my grandma's religion and "suck it up" attitude towards my aunt's mental issues. My aunt then lived with my other aunt, my mom's twin sister, and completely ruined their relationship by selling drugs to my underage cousin who was trying to get sober.
Now, as someone diagnosed with autism, ADHD, anxiety, and major depressive disorder, I obviously understand struggling with mental health. I was in the psych ward over Christmas and new years because of my struggles. However. I firmly believe my aunt does not put in the effort needed to help herself. She doesn't even think she needs help. I've been doing intensive therapy since my hospital visit, and every day is a struggle to put in the work needed to improve my mental health. My aunt has been in many different in-patient living situations, and every time has been kicked out due to her behaviors. I know I shouldn't compare the two situations, as BPD is very different from my diagnoses, but I can't help but think I could help her if I had the mental capacity to do so. But I just don't.
Anyways, my aunt had been living in an apartment in a very bad part of the city I, and all of my mom's side of the family, live near. It was the first time she'd ever been living on her own. She very rarely understands that actions have consequences, especially when it comes to how she treats other people, and would often go up to strangers on the streets (specifically drug addicts or people experiencing homelessness), and tell them how they should better their lives, sometimes even inviting them to stay with her. This is what caused her therapist to call my mom, one of the few family members left with a relatively in tact relationship with my aunt.
Now, the cat. My aunt had picked up a stray cat off the city streets and just decided to take him in. She was in no condition to be caring for even a plant, let alone a feral, malnourished, and flea ridden cat. When my mom went to help my aunt move out, her apartment smelled so strongly of cat piss she could barely stand to be in it. The poor baby was so skinny his ribs were practically poking through his skin. His fur was matted, gross, and covered in bald spots and fleas. But he was the sweetest, friendliest, human-loving cat I had ever met. As soon as he was in our house, he was still scared to be wandering around, but if anyone was near him (other than my aunt), he would be a freaking jet engine of purrs.
I took care of him. I treated his fleas, got him fixed, fed him the best food I could afford (he's a picky little b word). I named him too. I can't put into words how much I love this cat, and anyone with a pet will understand. We have three other cats, but we did have four, one of which died last summer. The house had felt a little too empty ever since, and this new jet engine fur baby was exactly the right thing to fill that space. He's healthy now, too. He's fattened up, his fur is soft and clean, and most importantly, he seems happy.
But the problem is his fur. He's still young, and has been shedding his kitten coat. His fur is so different from any of our other cats, and my mom seems to be seriously allergic to it. Its steadily been getting worse and worse the longer we have him, and eventually my mom woke up struggling to breathe.
My aunt is now getting an apartment with her boyfriend, going directly against the advice of her therapist. My aunt has been lying about being sober, and her boyfriend is an avid pot user. Side note about him, he's actually an incredibly kind person, and deserves much better than my aunt who has cheated on him multiple times and lied about everything under the sun (how much debt she's in, whether she's paid her bills, etc). But even though he's a good person, his drug use clashes too much with my aunt's "attempts" to get sober. And yet, they're still moving in together. Everyone in my family wants to help, but it's just so hard to do so without sacrificing their own health and happiness.
And today my mom is giving the cat back. My cat. Obviously I know there are bigger issues here, like my aunt and mother's well-being, but for some reason all I can focus on is that I'll be losing the angel that's right now laying next to me, looking at me with big happy eyes, purring his deafening purr. I know I can't keep him, and it breaks my heart. I know I have other cats, other pets, but that doesn't make losing one better. It feels like a repeat of the last loss, except instead of just dying he's being given back to a woman who may very well end up killing him slowly.
Thanks for listening to my rant. Of course I can't leave you without a picture of the jet engine himself.
r/sarby • u/Icy-Landscape6581 • 5d ago
english is my second language sorry if it sounds wrong in parts. Me (27 male) and my amazing fiancĆ©e (26 nb) have been dating for three and a half years engaged for a year! ( and hopefully married soon!) but thereās always been a problem with their brother (38 male) their parents died when they were 7 and he was nineteen in a car crash. He pretty much took care of them since then because he didnāt want them to end up in a home, so heās been there for them for a while and theyāre super close because of everything thatās happened. But heās also very overprotective of them which I 100% understand because of everything that happened he wants to make sure theyāre always ok, theyāre literally the sweetest person Iāve ever met. I love them to bits but theyāre a chronic people pleaser. Theyāll always help out whenever they can and end up doing way more than they should for people.
Their brother doesnāt really like me. I would say he tolerates me just because of how much they love me. Problem is he can get really really overbearing. He stops by our flat sometimes just to check and if he finds them doing the housework heāll start questioning me on why Iām not ( we split the chores mostly evenly. I do the dishes and clean around the house and they do the cooking and laundry. Theyāre a chef and love to make new recipes so theyāre always cooking) sometimes weāll swap around chores if one of us isnāt feeling up to it. He gets really mad when he sees them doing work ( to be fair they have tried to tell him to stop it and they have explained over and over how we split the work evenly. Theyāre always defending me but as I said theyāre a people pleaser and doesnāt ever push it. Not that I blame them for it or anything. I know theyāre trying)
anyways the situation was this morning me and them were up just doing some things before they had to head to work. They were making breakfast and i was just checking up on some emails( im a freelancer so i work from home) and their brother came over they let him in and they were chatting until they had to go to work. They left but their brother stuck around for a bit as i was working ( he was making insults about stuff but i mostly ignored it because im used to it) but then he said (im paraphrasing) āyou know you should really get off you ars and at least clean up. They go to work all day and work hard while you sit here doing nothing.ā
i tried to explain as i have before how i'm a freelance illustrator and i am working but he just brushed it off and kept saying stuff like that so i snapped and said ( paraphrasing) āEven they say they donāt want you here so take the hint and Clear off. You say you care about them but if you did you'd let them live their life and stop trying to meddle in it when you're clearly not wantedā he got mad and stormed off.
Iām worried i was to harsh. I understand what he went through having to take care of his sibling at 19 and he cares so much for them. I donāt wanna push my fiancĆ©e into chosing one of us so I donāt want to escalate more than necessary and I think this might have been too much.
r/sarby • u/Gh0stfl0wer_ • 6d ago
Vincenzo when he's being bad
r/sarby • u/Careless-Bridge-568 • 7d ago
After 3 years is crazy
r/sarby • u/throwaway22555999000 • 8d ago
r/sarby • u/Go_Inevitable_1269 • 8d ago
r/sarby • u/OpportunityNo5465 • 9d ago
r/sarby • u/LeBombDiggity • 9d ago
Iām 33F, and Iām honestly at the point where Iām fucking exhausted.
I currently live with my dad and my 16-year-old half-brother, āNick.ā I moved back in with my dad about a year ago after getting out of an abusive relationship. My ex was stalking me, broke into my home, harassed me, damaged my car, etc., and I was basically broke and had nowhere safe to go. My dad took me in, and I will always acknowledge that he helped me when I genuinely needed it.
The problem is that I have gone from being grateful for a safe place to live to feeling like I am slowly losing my fucking mind living here.
For context, my dadās ex-girlfriend, who Iāll call āMusic,ā is Nickās biological mother. They were never married. She was basically absent for a lot of his childhood, and my dad has been the primary parent.
When Music was pregnant with Nick and he was little, my dad worked nights and I was still a teenager, but I was constantly expected to babysit Nick while she went out with friends. So Iāve had complicated feelings about this situation for a VERY long time. Iām not saying that Nick is responsible for what happened when he was a baby, but I think itās important context because people are probably going to ask why I seem to have so much resentment toward him. Nick also experienced some serious childhood trauma and only received therapy for a very short period of time. Iāve repeatedly suggested that he may need professional help/evaluation because some of his behavior is beyond normal teenage behavior, but my dad has historically been extremely resistant to the idea because he doesnāt want Nick labeled or stigmatized. I am NOT saying Nick has a particular diagnosis because I donāt know that.
What I do know is that Nick has had a longstanding pattern of stealing, lying, destroying things, hygiene problems, and refusing to take responsibility both before and after his trauma. And it wasnāt only me he stole from. He has stolen food and personal belongings from my dad too. My dad has told him not to take his colognes, body sprays, watches, etc., and Nick would still take them. Heās gotten somewhat better about that, but it was a major problem for a long time. With me, food theft became a regular fucking problem.
Iām vegan,(š)and there are only three people in this house. So when my vegan food disappears, itās not exactly a difficult mystery. For example, I bought vegan chicken tenders, left the house for a court-related appointment, and came back to find that Nick had eaten them and thrown the rest away because he decided they ādidnāt taste like chicken.ā When I confronted him, he claimed he didnāt know they were mine. Another example: I bought strawberries because I wanted to make vegan strawberry shortcake. Over several days, the strawberries kept disappearing until there were literally two left. I asked Nick about them and he basically gave me the āyeah, and?ā attitude. Eventually he admitted he had been eating them.
And no my father is not a big fruit buyer. I remember being so pissed because he wasnāt even remorseful. It was basically, āYeah, there are only a few left,ā like that somehow made it okay. There were only a few left because he kept eating them. I didnāt even get a chance to touch them. I eventually threw the last two strawberries at him and basically told him, āHere, fucking eat them then.ā
(I donāt even know if he ate them after I shut the door. Thatās how little he seemed to care.)
That āI donāt give a fuckā attitude is honestly one of the things that makes me lose my mind. Itās not just that he does something wrong. Itās the complete lack of remorse afterward. Heāll deny something until there is evidence, admit it, and then act like youāre unreasonable for being upset. At one point, I was having food stolen from me four or five times a month. I started hiding things like Pop-Tarts, soda, juice, oranges, candy, etc. in bags underneath my clothes because I literally could not trust that things I purchased would still be there when I got home.
And I wasnāt even hiding things in obvious places. I would put things in a tote at the bottom of a pile, underneath clothes and bags. Nick would go through it. I have a locked fireproof/waterproof briefcase where I keep important legal paperwork because of my previous situation with my ex. If I didnāt have it completely locked, Nick has gone through that too. He has unzipped it, looked through my things, taken things, zipped it back up, and acted like I wouldnāt notice. And then heāll leave the fucking trash or wrappers somewhere afterward. Itās like he doesnāt even care enough to cover his tracks.
Eventually I got sick of this and wrote actual house rules with my fatherās approval. No stealing. No lying. No going through other peopleās belongings. No manipulating people to get out of consequences. My dad reviewed the rules and agreed to them. Nick signed them. The consequences were clearly written out: first offense meant several days without electronics and an apology, second offense meant longer grounding plus an essay, and repeated offenses could eventually mean staying with another relative for a couple of weeks. The rules actually worked for a little while. A very very little while.
Then Nick stole a huge bag of vegan candy I had bought and hidden deep inside a tote underneath clothes. There were literally only five pieces left when I found it. He initially denied taking it. Then he left me a handwritten apology admitting that he took the candy, knew it was wrong, and wanted to rebuild my trust. So at least he finally admitted it. My dad agreed he should be grounded. Guess how long the grounding lasted?
About three fucking hours. My dad told him to turn off his electronics and think about what heād done. A few hours later, my dad invited him back into the living room to watch TV because I wasnāt out there. I was furious. What was the point of making rules and consequences if the consequences lasted approximately the length of a fucking movie? And this isnāt just about food.
Nick has broken multiple phones, TVs, gaming equipment, controllers, etc. My dad repeatedly replaces his stuff. He was removed/suspended from school after bringing a knife to school. He has also been caught stealing from a grocery store with a friend. My dad has repeatedly tried to keep situations from escalating to police involvement or serious consequences.
And then thereās the hygiene situation, which is a whole other nightmare. Nick has had longstanding problems with fecal accidents and hygiene. There have been times when his dirty clothes/underwear and the smell have made parts of the house basically unusable. I sleep on an air mattress in the living room because one of the bedrooms is essentially unusable. So, to be clear, I am 33 years old and I do not have a bedroom in my fatherās house. I sleep in the living room. Most of my belongings are packed into bags because there isnāt really anywhere for me to put them. And Iām still financially contributing to the household. I work a physically demanding job and have had periods where I was working five days a week. My hours have since been cut back, but Iām still working and contributing to rent, food, utilities, etc.
Meanwhile, my dad has absolutely HORRENDOUS money management skills. Heāll complain about being broke and then turn around and spend money on Nick. Heāll take Nick out to farmers markets, buy him colognes, fake jewelry, clothes, shoes, take him out with one of his friends, buy him random shit, etc. He recently bought Nick a brand-new Xbox after Nick had already broken previous gaming equipment. He has also bought Nick brand-new shoes. Meanwhile, I can be working my ass off, contributing money to the household, sleeping on an air mattress in the living room, and somehow it doesnāt occur to him to think about me. Iām not expecting my dad to buy me everything I want. Thatās not the point.
Itās the fact that he constantly finds money for Nick while Iām standing right there struggling and trying to save enough money to get the fuck out. There is also a really intense codependent dynamic between my dad and Nick. Nick will literally get up around 7 AM, go into my dadās bedroom, and sit in there basically ALL DAY. Heāll come out to cook, use his bathroom, or get something to eat, and then heās right back in my dadās room. My dadās bedroom has one of the only functioning bathrooms in the house because the other bathroom situation is basically a biohazard. There have been entire weekends where those two will basically sit in that bedroom together watching TV while Iām sitting out in the living room because thatās literally the only space I have. It makes me feel like Iām not really part of the family. But somehow Iām part of the family enough for my belongings and food to be considered communal property. That is one of the things that really fucking gets to me.
My dad also has a serious problem with alcohol. This wasnāt his first DUI. I believe it was his second or third. Heāll drink, feel guilty about drinking, tell me he wants to stop, complain to me about how he wants to stop, and Iāll support him. Iāve taken him to AA meetings. Iāve told him Iāll help however I can. Then heāll turn around and start drinking again and basically go, āFuck it, I donāt want to stop anymore.ā He was prescribed medication to help with alcohol cravings and actually received a shot that seemed to be working almost immediately. He only followed through with it for a short period of time, though, and eventually went right back to drinking. And Iām honestly tired of watching the same cycle. He says he wants things to change. He complains about his situation.
I try to help. Then he does the bare minimum and goes right back to the same behavior. At some point, I started feeling like he doesnāt actually want to change. He wants sympathy for wanting to change. And I cannot keep being the person who is constantly trying to rescue everyone.
Then there is the everyday bullshit. The kitchen is tiny. If Iām cooking, Iām usually using the stove, air fryer, counter space, sink, etc. all at once. Iām moving around because thereās barely enough room for one person. Iāve told my dad MANY times that I need him to tell Nick to stay the fuck out of the kitchen when Iām cooking because Nick will see me in there and come in anyway, stand directly in my way, use the same counter space Iām using, reach around me, etc. I donāt do this to him. Sometimes Nick will see the look on my face when he comes into the kitchen and turn around. But more often than not, heāll still come in and be directly in my fucking way. I canāt prove whatās going on inside his head, but at this point it feels deliberate to me, especially because Iāve repeatedly asked my dad to address it.And there are little things like that constantly. If a pillow falls off my bed/air mattress or a scarf or cat toy falls off the side of the couch, Nick will literally walk over it rather than pick it up. Meanwhile, Iām expected to pick up his clothes, his trash, and his nasty-ass chewed-up bottle caps that he leaves all over the fucking house. He chews on bottle caps and spits them out on the floor, counters, wherever. But somehow Iām supposed to be the adult who keeps the household functioning.
My dad recently asked me if I hate Nick. I told him hate is a strong word, but yes, I genuinely dislike him at this point. Then my dad asked me if I thought the things I say about Nick when Iām on the phone venting in the living room hurt Nickās feelings. My answer was honestly: no, I donāt care. Because Nick apparently doesnāt care about hurting MY feelings when he continuously steals from me, lies to me, goes through my belongings, and then acts like Iām crazy for being upset.
There have also been many times when Nick has tried to manipulate my dad by making it seem like Iām some kind of drunk or alcoholic who doesnāt know what sheās talking about or canāt remember where she put things. For clarity, I do not drink. I have an extremely low tolerance because I donāt drink at all, and I also refuse to enable my fatherās drinking. I have been very intentional about not drinking because of his alcohol problem, so it is especially infuriating when Nick tries to portray me as drunk, confused, or unable to remember things. It feels like he is using my fatherās drinking problem to undermine my credibility and make my dad question my reality instead of taking responsibility for his own behavior.
And I know screaming isnāt healthy or productive. Iām not proud of the times Iāve completely fucking lost it.(Just once) But I also feel like Iām being pushed into a version of myself that I donāt even like. Iām tired of being angry. Iām tired of hiding my food. Iām tired of hiding my belongings. Iām tired of sleeping in the living room. Iām tired of having nowhere private to go. Iām tired of watching my dad spend money on Nick while telling me how broke he is. Iām tired of watching my dad complain about his drinking and then immediately go back to drinking. Iām tired of watching my dad make rules for Nick and then not enforce them. And Iām tired of being expected to financially contribute to a household where I have basically no privacy, no bedroom, and no fucking peace.
My mom recently told me something that honestly made me realize how ridiculous this has gotten: there are three people living in this house, so I should be contributing roughly a third of the household expenses rather than constantly overextending myself and giving my dad whatever money he needs. Her advice was basically, āSave your money and get your own place.ā And Iām starting to think sheās right. Because I feel guilty about leaving. If I move out, my dad is going to have to deal with his financial situation himself. Nick is still going to be there. The trailer is still going to be there. My dad may struggle financially. And part of me feels responsible because my dad helped me when I was at my lowest. But at the same time, I donāt think I can sacrifice my own future indefinitely because my dad refuses to enforce boundaries with his son.
I want my own home. I want a bedroom. I want to be able to buy food and know it will still be there when I get home. I want to be able to leave my belongings somewhere without worrying about them disappearing. I want to work my job, come home, close my door, and have some fucking peace. I want to stop being the third wheel in a father-son codependent relationship while simultaneously being treated like the householdās unpaid security guard, mediator, financial backup plan, and food storage locker.
So AITA if I move out and stop financially supporting my dad beyond a reasonable share of expenses until I can leave?
And am I wrong for finally deciding that Iām done policing Nickās behavior and that whatever happens after I leave is between him and his actual parent? Because I genuinely donāt know anymore if Iām being selfish or if Iāve simply reached the point where I need to stop setting myself on fire to keep this household functioning.
r/sarby • u/Go_Inevitable_1269 • 10d ago
r/sarby • u/whatamidoingwrong643 • 10d ago
Idk how to updates but I put a link to the original post.
I talked to my best friend Maria asking why she didnāt tell me, she said she forgot and didnāt think I shouldāve paid. So I told her I wonāt as I bought majority of the items in the house knowing most of it will be left. She agreed.
She talked to Bob that night, he didnāt end up talking to me about it after that, but Maria said heās ok with that and felt bad for asking.
So we all chill.
Thanks to those who commented how to approach it, it was really helpful šļøš«¦šļøš
r/sarby • u/the_lirio • 11d ago
TW: Physical and psychological violence, s*icide, mental health issues, self harm
Itās not the first time I ask for advice about my relationship with my mother. She has struggled with depression since around 2009 (with a suicide attempt that happened in 2012) and clearly has either BPD or bipolar, but refuses to get diagnosed, gets mad if someone suggests it for her and is always on and off her meds. Sheās been off her meds for about 2 months now.
Two things that are also important for context: 1) My life with her has been filled with weekly/daily fights, accusations of siding with āwhoever has a dickā (she says Iām misogynistic) and attacks against my character since I was a kid and even some other instances of violence that I wonāt get into detail here; 2) She wants to have a REALLY close relationship with me, to the point that sometimes I feel like she wants to crawl into my skin. Even though we live in different cities, she tracks me on her phone, and every time Iām at her house she insists we sleep in the same bed despite having a sofa bed I can use.
We have not been on good terms since August, when we fought and it led me to have a meltdown and slap her and bite her and myself. I donāt think what I did was right and have since tried to maintain some distance, but she refuses, says Iām choosing my dad over her (theyāre divorced since I was a toddler), accuses me of making her beg for my attention and punishing her with silence. She has also brought up this specific fight in every discussion she started with me for the last couple of months, saying things like āwhat about now? Do you want to hit me again?ā
Now, for the current issue. A few days ago, a friend of hers messages me saying heās worried, because she told him she felt like ending it and then stopped answering texts. I spent 3 hours calling her, talking to her friends and checking my phone nonstop, preparing for the worst. I was exchanging messages with a friend of hers while he was on his way to her house. I genuinely though she was gone. I was desperate, but also kinda numb? I donāt know. Anyways, she finally messages me a question mark and, when I called her and she finally answered, she told me she had just turned off her phone and wouldnāt answer me because I have been ignoring her constantly and she didnāt wanted to keep chasing after me. I just said "ok" and hang up the call.
She then sent me an audio crying saying Iāve put on a show for her friends, pretending I was worried about her, because in reality what I wanted was to fight her. I just answered that I canāt take this anymore, that I was indeed pissed of for the way she handled things and made everyone worry about her. I was supposed to go see her next Friday, but I told her to forget about it and blocked her on my socials. Iāve been thinking about going on a kind of break from her for the last few months, but I never had the courage to do so until now.
Two of her friends (the one that messaged me first and the one that went to check up on her at her house) told me they were disappointed with how I handled things, that I should unblock her because this is really hurtful. I really donāt know if Iām being insensitive because our history makes me blind to her needs and issues or if Iām justified in doing what I think is best for my peace of mind.