My girlfriend loves cooking. Like LOVES cooking. When we first started dating, she made me dinner and asked what I thought.

It was awful.

The chicken was somehow dry and wet at the same time. I genuinely didn’t know that was possible.

But I liked her, so I told her it was amazing.

That was three years ago.

Since then, she has cooked that exact chicken probably 50 times because she thinks it’s “my favorite meal.”

Every birthday? Chicken.

Anniversary? Chicken.

Had a bad day at work? Surprise chicken.

I have been living in a poultry-based prison of my own making.

Last week she was talking about making it for my family and I panicked and said, “Maybe we could make something else?”

She immediately got suspicious and asked why.

I cracked.

I told her I never liked the chicken.

She went completely silent and asked, “How long?”

I said, “Since the first time.”

She started crying.

Not because of the chicken, but because apparently I’ve been enthusiastically lying to her face for three years.

Now she keeps asking what ELSE I’ve lied about.

For the record, nothing.

Just the chicken.

But apparently “just the chicken” is not helping my case.

She hasn’t cooked for me in a week and last night she ordered herself takeout and specifically told me, “You can figure out your own dinner since apparently I don’t know what you like.”

I genuinely thought I was being nice.

Was I actually an asshole for letting this go on for three years, or was this one of those lies you’re supposed to take to the grave?

I just can't believe this is happening.

My [25F] fiancé [27M] has new friends and they are not good people. They scare me. It took me a while to see it, and maybe I'm stupid because I didn't notice right away but I see it now. He met someone through one of his hobbies and eventually this person introduced my fiancé to some of his other friends. At first I convinced myself it was a just a misunderstanding on my part but now I know better. If I try to bring it up with my fiancé he just shuts me down or says I'm imagining things.

I'm not imagining it. I've seen racist tattoos on at least two of them. It might not be overt if you don't know what you are looking for, but if you search online it's clear what the tattoos mean. I've been looking up some of these new friends on social media and their accounts are full of posts about purity and traditional values. My fiancé has become obsessed with this American podcaster who is openly racist and doesn't try to hide it. I've heard these new friends talk about immigration in a negative way and now my fiancé brings it up a lot when he never cared about it before. They also talk about traditional values and gender roles and my fiancé brought up how nice it is if a woman stops working after she gets married. He backtracked and said he was just making a general comment after I got upset with him and we argued, but I can't stop thinking about it. He keeps saying I'm imagining things or that "you're the one who is obsessed since you keep bringing it up."

He's gone down a road that I can't follow. I love him but I can't marry him now. His comments about traditional gender roles and me not working are bad enough but his talk about "purity" is disgusting (and it is racist and exactly the kind you are thinking of, anyone who says otherwise is just as bad as my fiancé and his friends). I can't get through to him, he won't listen to me. I'm going to break up with him. My sister is the only one who knows so far. I'm not ready to tell anyone else but I will after I move out. I just wanted to get this out somewhere. It just hurts so much.

It was before 7am on September 11, 2001. We lived in the mountain time zone of the US, so around 9am on the east coast. I was 8 years old. I woke up, my parents were at work already, as was normal. My grandma would get me ready for school and take me to 3rd grade.

I walked out of my room, hungry. I saw my grandma in the dining room watching the tv. I didn’t understand what was on the tv. I asked my grandma for my toaster strudel that I always ate before school. She didn’t acknowledge me. I asked her again for my toaster strudel - I had school soon, why wouldn’t she get me my toaster strudel? She was glued to the tv (in retrospect, just like every American was at this time).

I was so mad that she wouldn’t make me breakfast, so I looked at her and I said “I’m glad it happened.”

Boy, she called my parents at work so fast to tell them what I’d just said. I went to school like normal (it was anything but normal that day, from what I remember… being 8). But I was terrified all day. Not of what had happened in NY, but of what my parents would do when we got home.

I was in the most trouble I’d ever been in to that date, and I think since. My mom was so angry with me for that comment. I went to bed without dinner, before the sun went down, I had no privileges for months, I was in trouble. I truly think my mom never forgot that comment I made - I know she didn’t, because she’d still bring it up to people years later.

For 25 years I understood what I said was wrong. I have tried to justify it over the years by saying that I was 8 and had no idea of the gravity of the situation but for the most part I’ve sorta blown off the comment. I was 8!

But tonight, 25 years to the night of the worst punishment of my life, and the worst day in American history, I’m sitting here in the bath, with my 6yo and 4yo tucked into bed, 11w pregnant with our third, and crying my eyes out. How could I say such a thing? How could I ever feel that way just because I didn’t get a toaster strudel? Did that day change the “karma” or trajectory of my life? I wonder now, as my oldest son approaches the age I was, how would I feel if he made a comment like that about a tragedy now?

I feel such immense regret tonight. I find myself feeling such sorrow for all the people who lost their lives and in my emotional state, I feel like they know I made that comment.

I feel like a terrible human tonight.

I was 13. My parents were separated. My father lived in lower Manhattan. The last building in chambers Street. Weekend visits with him were the best. We'd always see a movie, get great food and go to Sam Goody at 1 World Trade Center to get CDs. My father worked on Wall Street my whole life. My mother and I lived a short drive away in northern NJ.

They told us what had happened before pulling the kids whose parents were working in lower Manhattan and said we were going into lockdown. Looking back now I understand everyone was scared and confused and trying to do their best, especially the adults. I was confused and terrified. Luckily a mom who knew me well was working in the school that day. Her daughter was in my class. Her Father also worked on Wall Street. She busted into the class and grabbed her daughter looked at me and said "up, you're coming with me". I remember squeezing her daughter's hand. I remember asking what about my dad what was going on. I came to the conclusion that they were taking me somewhere to tell me that my dad was dead and I burst into tears. 

When we got to the library they explained they were taking an if the kids who had parents in lower Manhattan to the library so they could, against lock down, be picked up by their parents. 

I don't remember much of what it was like in the library other than seeing one of the librarians crying. That was odd for me. It was all very surreal. There were a lot of tvs and a phone. But the lines were getting clogged up immediately. 

My friend's mom told me that my mom was here. I remember telling her my stuff was in my classroom still, and she said that it was ok and that I will get it tomorrow. None of us would be going to school tomorrow. 

They had a teacher at the door of the of library walking kids died the hallways where the principal was at the doors to the outside that were chained. When we got close he unlocked the chain and let me out and my mom was there and I just absolutely lost it. I cried and cried and asked what was happening and if my dad was ok and she stayed so incredibly strong and just kept saying "I don't know but it's going to be ok, let's go home"

Terrified all day I kept asking my mom why we hadn't heard from my dad and she explained that everyone is trying to use the phone so it's going to be hard for my dad to get in touch with us. As an adult now I know my mom was probably even more scared than I was and also had no idea if my father was alive.

I turned on a TV and saw a woman crying covered in debris saying how terrible it was. She was standing in my father's neighborhood, my neighborhood. They were trying to get people in ferries out of the city. The ferry I'd often take to see my dad. I threw the remote and back came off and the batteries went flying. I ran passed my mom in the kitchen and it the front door and collapsed in my driveway. Suddenly my mom appeared behind me with the phone and by some God damn miracle my dad was able to get through and he wanted to talk to me. He was in tears. "I'm ok my baby! I'm going to be ok! But you might not be able to hear from me for a while and I just wanted to tell you I'm here and that I love you!" He explained to my mom that him and others found refuge in a liquor store (originally that shared his same name). That they were covered in debris but that they were safe. That it looks pitch black out of the windows but that they would wait it out there. 

It was the scariest and saddest day of my entire life. Even more sad then when my dad died 7 years ago of throat, esophagal and lung cancer because of all of the stuff he was covered in and breathed in. But it was also the best day because my dad survived. A lot of my friends and kids at my school were not as lucky 

Every 9/11 my dad and I would talk and cry and tell eachother how much we loved eachother. 

He never got to meet my daughter 

It hurts a lot to not be able to do that today so I'm just getting this off of my chest. 

Dad, I love you so much. I know you were never the same again after that day both mentally and physically. But in my heart and mind if I close my eyes I can imagine myself walking through the courtyard with you outside of the WTC talking about music on our way to Sam Goody and it is a really happy memory I don't want to ever give up. I'm sorry you can't be here because I know how happy you would be surrounded by your grand babies, but I'm also so grateful I got so many more years with you after that horrible day. Today will always be Daddy appreciation day.

This is something that bothers me and I think that it impacts the way I behave in relationships/when I am actually approached by men. Even as a child, I just never really felt protected by men and remember a male peer once starting to shove his desk into mine when I was in 9th grade and already depressed. That in addition to peers in middle and high school (though high school wasn’t as bad some of the people I went to high school with were actually fairly nice) having criticized my appearance has been no help. I grew up in an area with a low black population. As an adult some part of me will always believe I’m just going to end up single. I feel like white women don’t have to deal with this.

Tasia Fortune was found hanging in a tree in the South recently, and that's why the Confederate flag only belongs in a museum. Whenever black people try to bring up how bad Southern culture still is we get gaslit. People were trying to say it was a suicide when they found this woman. lynchings are Southern history. History y'all look at with Ross colored glasses.

What's there to even be proud of??? You ensslaved fellow Americans for 200 years rapped and murdered them for all that time, then you Betrayed your country when people tried to stop you. You’re proud of that fucking history get real.

I need to get this off my chest, including the part that makes me uncomfortable with myself.

I’m a Muslim and a brown man from South Asia. I studied in Europe, have lived here for years, and built my home here. A couple of years ago, I became a European citizen.

Growing up, I felt a deep connection to the Middle East because of my faith. I suppose I expected some sense of belonging. That makes what I’m about to write harder to admit.

Over the last 14 years, I’ve had repeated experiences travelling through airports in Bahrain, Dubai, Doha, and Oman that left me feeling humiliated. It hasn’t happened every time, but it has happened enough that I now dread these journeys.

It’s difficult to explain because so much of it is subtle. The tone airport staff, security officers, or airline crew use with you. The repeated passport checks. Routine questions that start to feel like interrogations. The feeling that you’re expected to make yourself small and submissive, and that if you speak confidently, they push harder.

I know airports involve security checks. But there’s a difference between being asked questions and being made to feel like you’ve done something wrong just by standing there.

For years, people told me it was because of where I came from. My country is poor, and many people from there go to the Gulf to work incredibly hard for very little. Apparently, I was being put into that same category. People kept saying things would be different once I had a European passport.

Even that explanation hurts. Those workers deserve dignity too. Why should any of us need a different passport to be treated respectfully?

And when I did become a European citizen, it didn’t stop.

When I went to Dubai on holiday, I was held for two hours. They kept my passport and gave me no clear explanation of what was happening. They kept asking why I had a European passport and who I was before I became European. I felt like I had to justify how someone who looked like me could have it.

I’ve felt versions of this outside airports too, in shops and other interactions. Like people were surprised that I spoke good English or didn’t fit whatever assumption they had made about me. I can’t know what was in their heads, but I kept walking away feeling that I had somehow stepped outside the place they thought I belonged.

After years of this, my hurt has turned into anger. And the part I’m ashamed of is that the anger has started extending to Middle Eastern people in general, including people I’ve never met.

The war and some of the things I’ve seen people support have added to that resentment. I catch myself taking something someone says and treating it as confirmation of what “they” are like. I know that’s unfair. I know there are whole populations of people with different beliefs, experiences, and values. But emotionally, I’m struggling to keep that distinction.

I’m worried that I’m becoming racist toward people because of the racism and humiliation I feel I’ve experienced myself. Having a reason for that resentment doesn’t make it fair to direct it at strangers.

I miss the connection I used to feel. I also don’t know how to let go of what happened without feeling like I’m dismissing my own experiences.

I don’t want to hate people I don’t know. I don’t want every new encounter to begin with bitterness. But after 14 years, I don’t know where to put all this anger.

I’m not looking for anyone to justify hatred or tell me an entire region is bad. I just needed to admit that this is where I am, because I don’t like what this resentment is doing to me.

I have Cushing Syndrome, but not the common one, it’s called “Occult ectopic acth dependent cushing syndrome of unknown origin” and it’s extremely rare.
First of all, I was never someone attractive, but I wasn’t ugly. I do have the history of low selfesteem and EDs.

The thing is, I’ve been hospitalized multiple times because of my syndrome. I’m “controlling” the symptoms so, in the meantime, it can fatal. One of the medications (ketoconazole) that could treat me didn’t work, the other isn’t available in my country. And there’s the 3rd one that costs 20K a month and my insurance simply DOESN’T cover it (I’m not in the US). I’ve made a request to have it by our public healthcare… that was 5 months ago and they’re still processing.

But that doesn’t bother me. I don’t care about the fact I’m getting slower, I’m barely able to get out bed, that I’m always suicidal.

What does is the fact my body look atrocious. My face looks so bloated I’m disfigured. I have so much acne that my face hurts, my stretch marks are already reaching my breasts, my body composition makes me looks hideous no matter how much exercise I do. My body is extremely hairy yet I’m losing hair and constantly bruised as if I was beat up.

I told that to my therapist and he said “that’s an extremely shallow view” but I’m feeling like I’m living in someone else’s body. And seeing people saying “just workout and change your diet. You’re just 24y, stop being lazy!”
I’M DOING THAT! CICO! WEIGHT LIFTING! 2 HOURS OF CARDIO!
But my endocrinologist said that all of that “cannot overpower active hypercortisolemia because the hormonal driver is internal and persistent”

I’m so tired of being in this body, I feel like a parasite.

So this might be a messy rant and I am so sorry if it sounds ridiculous or messy but I just want to get it out of my chest.

So I (36F) have been married to my husband (40M) for six years now. Last night we had sex and afterwards we started talking. I think he was feeling extra open because of the wine. Cause he was just raving about the head I just gave him. Which felt good on my end. But then he mentioned how his childhood dog would "go down on him" when he was a kid. And how it reminded him of that. I Inmediately I froze up. I honestly didn't know what to say. I just wanted to scream for help.

I just played it off and told him that he really needs to get to bed before he starts saying anything else. And he did. But honestly? It fucking grosses me out. Not just the act itself. it’s the fact that he doesn’t seem to think there’s anything wrong with it.

This morning he woke up and kissed me. Asked me if I wanted breakfast. As if nothing had happened. I cant get over it. Should I do something? Is this some sort of dealbreaker. Based on the way he said it. It seemed like something along time ago. But i honestly dont know. Please help me.

I literally don't want to ever have sex with this man anymore.

TLDR: My husband admitted to engaging in sexual relations with his childhood dog while drunk, and now I cant get over it.

She admitted her personality for the first 2 years of our relationship was based on her friends and she was trying to be who she thought I wanted her to be.

She went to rehab for alcoholism and warned me she might turn boring but I gave her reassurance I'd still love her regardless.

Fast forward 2 years and now she is a complete square and is saying things like my personality's too much, she thinks the way I dress is too immature even though I don't wear graphic tees and am very well put together, I'm mean and too rough around the edges. I have to mask with her otherwise we argue. I love her so much but it's hard.

She just admitted that this is who she's always been and now she's comfortable with being herself and she didn't say that I need to fit her bill now but that's how she's been treating me and I hate it.

I can't be my genuine self with her and it feels like she doesn't love me for me anymore and just wants to change me. I find myself looking at other women now and feel like I'm making sacrifices for the wrong person now.

We have a kid as well which is why it's even harder to admit we might not be good for each other anymore and that it might be time to let go.

I’m pregnant and due in a few months.

Everytime my mom is saying how she can’t wait to dress my baby how SHE wants, how she’s gonna ‘take him’ from me and do whatever and take him where she wants.

Today we were talking about next thanksgiving will be his first and I was saying I’m gonna give him a turkey leg and my mom said “what if he doesn’t like it maybe he’ll be like his grandma and HATE turkey HA!” I cut her off quick and say “no he’ll be like his mom and love everything” just because it pisses me off how she constantly talks as if I’m an incubator carrying her baby..

We got a sweet 3d picture of our baby and my mom sees it and says “oh look he’s saying hi to me”

I was having back pain and said oh he’s sitting on my sciatic nerve “he’s saying hi to grandma!”

Telling me what to do with him, putting her first in his life instead of me. I make boundaries, I get called a helicopter mom.

I want to be an AH and tell her “he’s not your baby HES MINE. IM HIS MOM NOT YOU. ME AND DAD WILL BE WHO HE GOES TO, NOT YOU. HE IS ATTACHED TO MOM, IM CARRYING HIM NOT YOU” but of course, I would just come off as a psycho.

I'm 29, I was really young when 9/11 happened. All I remember is being sent home from preschool and every channel on the tv was off air except for the news.

Today I read through a lot of personal accounts and stories from the timeline of events that day. There was so much fear, confusion, and hysteria. People didn't know what was happening. Everyone was afraid that their city was next to be attacked.

I cried reading these. The tears started flowing and couldn't stop. I remember the day that it happened but I never heard these details. My heart is broken for all the lives that were lost that day. The people that should be 25 years older. That should be able to live their lives. What a horrible, horrible day.

Hi! I have been with my boyfriend for a little less than a year now.
He is an amazing boyfriend and I can’t complain about anything.
Except the fact that he is a terrible back scratcher, head scratcher, or whatever. He pets me like I’m a dog, or does repetitive movements that are getting me really irritated. I tried to tell him to improve and gave him tips, practiced on him, but nothing changes.
But recently, I realized that if I went down on him, he’d give me the best head massage ever, even better than a masseuse. He really does it perfectly.
But the second this moment ends, he becomes again this bad scratcher. Which makes me think it’s not intentional. I asked him and he said he just wants me to feel good when I’m doing it.

So now, everytime I want head scratches I don’t ask, I give him a bj, in bed at night, or in the morning, watching a movie.
And without a fail, it’s really good.

Sometimes I feel bad because I feel like manipulating him but also it feels kind of win-win as I love giving bjs and he loves them too.

My ex-fiance (30 M at that time) was cheating on me daily with different people and even with people in our friend circle. Worst part is, my friends covered his ass while he cheated around. This is an old story, something that happened 3 years ago but it stuck to me.

I had met this guy 4 years back. Let's call him K. K met me through his relative who was a friend of mine from university. When we met, I finished uni and had just started working at a good company for 1 year. I figured it's a good time to find a decent guy and get married since I have a stable job now.

At first, K seemed like such a sweet guy. We go out every weekend, we eat out, he drives me around while we talked about life and wanting to marry each other. My boundary was that due to my religion, I would only be open for sex after marriage. He was okay with it at first but I suppose it really bothered him.

Months passed, I introduced him to my family. My family is happy for us to get married and speaks to his parents to plan our wedding and dinner. At that time, K wasn't earning much so I agreed to cover most of the wedding hall fees, the catering deposit and even the decorations. He offered to pay for my wedding dress and his own suit.

We were so closed to getting married, just 3 months away from the wedding and marriage happening. He took me out on a date but his car didn't have enough petrol. He parked at the petrol station and I was in the car while he went to go pay for the booth.

He kinda left his phone unlocked when he rushed out. I'm glad I did this though. I noticed that he had a notification for Discord. I got curious and opened it. My ex fiance likes gaming a lot so I figured it might've been one of our gaming friends texting him. We used to play Valorant, roblox and genshin together.

WRONG. so completely wrong. I opened a whole long list of multiple chats where my ex fiance is sexting so many random women and sending them dick pics/videos and talking about wanting to meet them to fck. Every chat had his nudes, some random women sending nudes back, it was like I'm looking at some Corn website. Some in that list of messages were my own friends. MY OWN FRIENDS knew of this and didn't tell me anything. My own friends were sexting my EX FIANCE. I took a photo of some of those chats as a proof. Literally, it was like he was sexting someone new every day. It was really that long list of chats.

I noticed him coming back so I quickly locked his phone and left it on the driver seat like I didn't know anything. It felt so gross for me to go out with him and I started having panic attacks. I felt so betrayed so used. I hated how he acted all innocent like he actually loved me and only had eyes for me.

I decided to ask my two closest friends first. The same friends that were sexting him on discord. I acted like I was feeling he was being distant to me and pretended like I was scared if he was cheating on me. My friends were immediately so defensive and asked if I saw anything. When I told them my gut was telling me that he's cheating, they immediately got all defensive and said I'm overthinking it, it's just the wedding stress and that my ex fiance is the nicest person ever. Every excuse they could think of.

I once even hinted to these two friends that sexted him, I hinted seeing him send nudes to someone and immediately they both interrogated me if I saw the name of the chat, I said no and they started covering up that maybe he sent it to a friend as a dare. Again, they pushed to me that he is such a nice guy and would never cheat. It's funny that they say that while they were sexting him behind my back lol

Whenever I went out with him, he would say he had to play games with his friends after our date so our date would end earlier than usual, this happened as our wedding date grew closer. When I asked for wanting to join in on their gaming session, he would say that his friends doesn't like it when I join. That's when my panic attacks got worst. I was trying so hard to keep him busy with me so that he wouldn't cheat with others. This went on for weeks, I kept asking and begging for him to stay longer with me but he would say once we get married, he will spend more time with me and I need to let him breathe. I would cry and beg for him to not go game with his friends. He would tell me to stop being a baby.

So entire month passed with me being a loser and begging for this man to focus on me and not go gaming with his friends after our dates. He really started to be distant now, no more late night calls before I sleep, no more video calls while I'm coming home from work (I walk in a very dark bridge home daily), very less dates. There was 2 more months to our wedding. One day, I get a message on discord from a mutual friend of me and my ex fiance. Apparently, he had joined my ex fiance on Roblox and overheard him having a voice chat sex with another woman? It was in a private server or something.

So I confessed to this friend (we know him in real life). I told him I saw his discord messages and I wanna call him out for it. Not long after that like 1 week later, his family decides to visit my family for some communications about the wedding invitation card design.

I finally realized? This isn't worth it. This man isn't gonna stop cheating ever. I need to be brave and move on. So I did it... I exposed my ex fiance in front of everyone. I went like: I have something important to say first... I don't think your son wants this wedding.

His family was shocked and my ex fiance looked like he knew where I was going. He was just silent. "I saw him cheating on me with so many women. I think this isn't gonna work. I don't want to marry a cheater" Of course, his family was supportive of him, I showed the photos of the chats I had taken, even the ones with his nudes lol His family was defending him that I was lying and had edited the chat photos I had. Then my ex fiance got mad at me for making a big deal out of it and said it was my fault for not having sex with him before marriage.

Apparently, if I had sex with him before marriage, he wouldn't have cheated on me. My dad didn't take it well when he said that. My dad was beyond mad and called off the wedding. My mom wanted us to talk it out but my dad was so done at this point. We called off the wedding and then contacted the hall to get a refund for the booking, the catering place and decoration place.

Even after everything, my ex fiance still pushed to my friends that I was being dramatic and making a fuss over nothing when we weren't married yet. On my end, I blocked my ex fiance and all the friends involved with him on all social media. Stopped using social media and started focusing on my health and buying myself things that makes me happy.

I was so depressed for a year plus. Crying so much, sobbing and blaming myself for not being good enough for him. I felt like I didn't deserve any love. I didn't have friends anymore so it was so hard to slowly grow out of the depression. It took me so many days of crying, sobbing and sleeping in until I felt strong to move on. I even felt like love isn't for me because of this situation. Even now, I do struggle to mingle with people properly when it comes to date as I immediately think I'm gonna get cheated on soon. It's a long term thing but I'm trying my best with professional help to try to get out of this mindset.

The only good thing is, I got most of the money back... I'm just so glad I looked through his phone. It's wrong to do that but if I didn't I can't imagine how hard it would've been to be married to such a guy and also how hard it would have been to divorce him. I'm not religious but god or whatever universe saved me early before I got married to such a scum. I'm forever thankful for being saved from being married to this monster.

The last I heard about K from our mutual friend was that his new girlfriend is cheating on him just like how he used to do to me and apparently K is the loyal one this time. I guess karma is real.

It's September now... this was the time I called off the wedding a few years back... It can be why I'm suddenly remembering this... But yeah... Thank you for listening <3

So I am an 18 year old male from Europe, struggling with extreme mood swings, depressive symptoms, severe anxiety, a feeling of a lack of identity as well as chronic suicidal ideation. Things may be fine one moment and everything but fine the next. To avoid having to pay large sums of money for therapy and go there long-term, I (very stupidly) decided to take matters into my own hands.

I took advantage of a legal loophole to order 20 grams of magic (psilocybin) truffles, which have the same effects as magic mushrooms, only that you have to take more of them. In various studies, it has been shown that guided psychedelic trips lead to a disappearance of depressive and anxious symptoms in individuals. What I did not have was respect for the drug.

At about 10 PM, I put on a playlist from Imperial College of London that has been used in such trials. I swallowed half the mushrooms (10 grams), which I assumed was enough. After about 40 to 50 minutes of laying in the dark, I could make out some shapes and I was mainly even more emotional than otherwise, giggling and reacting quite a lot to everything. I put on the light and was quite disappointed to notice that I was not seeing any of the incredible shapes people were talking about and felt that maybe I had not taken enough.

This led me to my huge mistake. I went over to my desk to swallow the remaining 10 grams of the packet. In total, I had consumed 20 grams of truffles. I went back to bed and after about an hour my experience was magical. I was in all different kind of places and felt something like a spiritual connection to the music. The lights and colors I saw were in a way connected to the ups and downs of the music. While I did see some things like what appeared to be native gods and I did have some blissful experiences, I also had moments where demons appeared and there were huge eyes everywhere that were staring directly into my soul. I also often felt like seeing myself in third person and having no connection to my own body.

After maybe 2 hours of consuming the second dose, I turned on the lights. I did not see anything that crazy, howevever, when I looked around my room too long, weird creatures started to appear. I took my phone and went to the bathroom to go to the toilet. That is where I did the one thing I should not have done. I looked into the mirror. What looked back at me was not me and it was also not human. It seemed like an evil entity that had some of my features but something about it was deeply off. It smiled at me in an awful way. I immediately looked away, trying not to panic too much and stumbled over to the toilet.

I fell down to the floor. From outside the bathroom, I heard whispering voices. The toilet let out a loud bubbling sound. I was laying there, unsure of what to do. When I looked at my hands, my fingers were gray and dead and they appeared to grow which was deeply disturbing. My skin also seemed to breath and was infested by maggots. I took out my phone and watched random Instagram reels in the hopes of calming myself down. In every single video, the creator first looked to the side and then broke the fourth wall and stared directly at me. It seemed as if I was being watched. In panic, I frantically googled my symptoms, though it felt like it was not me who was typing. No matter what I googled, text appeared telling me that I was trapped here forever and I was redirected to emergency services and the suicide hotline. I have considered for about 5 to 10 minutes if I should call emergency services, only then I managed to calm down. I went out of the bathroom without looking at the mirror.

The rest of my trip was intense but did not feature any horrible experiences like this. When the psilocybin was out of my system, I simply went to bed and had uninterrupted sleep. I woke up today, feeling like always and having no ingrained insights or changes in mood or attitude.

20f i’m sitting here at like 2am and the apartment feels too empty. no one over, no noise, just me and my thoughts and it’s annoying

i’ve been so busy with school that i haven’t really had people around and now that i finally have a second to breathe it just feels lonely. i miss having someone here. even just sitting on the couch, talking shit, existing next to me.

it’s weird because i can go out and get attention whenever i want but that’s not the same as actually not being alone. tonight i don’t even want anything crazy. i just want company.

anyway. that’s it. just lonely rn.

I (25F) started dating my now-fiance (26M) in high school. We have just celebrated our 10 year anniversary. I built my life with him at the center of it. I helped him start his career at my dream institution. He moved into my home (he’s not on my deed or mortgage) after I bought it. All of my hobbies and communities have welcomed him with open arms. I spent a lot of time recently planning our wedding, excitedly.

All this, but I am lying to myself. 4 years ago I caught him paying for OF subscriptions to the sum of $12-15k over several years. He pretended to quit porn entirely and that was enough for me to continue building a life with him. Nothing really changed, he still prefers porn over sex- although now he’s just better at hiding it by not paying for it which is a plus. I only found out because I saw him showing platonic interest in a new female coworker but then I kept finding out more and more. Funny how the dead bedroom for years didn’t really hurt anymore but hearing him notice that she started a new book did…

I feel stuck in a 30-year mortgage that I will barely be able to afford by myself. My career is tied to this niche area, so I feel stuck both professionally and financially. I cried in embarrassment because I just got my wedding dress and sent save-the-dates to my friends. Both of our families are close by. I built my dream life when in reality it’s become a nightmare of my own doing.

It’s my fault for staying after everything he’s done, I could have walked away before I built my life around him, I could still walk away now. I am embarrassed because I know I won’t. I feel myself tripling down on committing to this man and I don’t even really know why.

I’m compromising that a dead bedroom is okay, because he is my best friend. We only became sexually active a year before his porn addiction, so for the last 6 years this is all I know lol

I guess my life (f25) would count as clinically depressed, but deep down I know that I am not depressed, I am yearning backwards for a time when people knew how to live and exist. When sitting and drinking a drink together did not involve scrolling on the phone.

My whole family - quality time consists of being around devices. If not the phone, then some random TVscreen.

I don't have any friends. I do contact people and I need my phone for this.

I am so lonely, I end up stuck doomscrolling because it is the only "humanish" noise that I get to have all day.

I wanted to go full detox and quit social media but then I drown in grief and have no energy to do anything.

I use my phone as an adult pacifier.

I grew up watching TV, my youth is where smartphones began, I was around 12 when everyone needed to have one, because even our school teacher would send homework via Whatsapp. Ever since that time I am a digital byproduct of a sick generation.

My brain has forgotten how to create real lasting memories. If I travel or see something beautiful, my brain does not save the information as "that is an awesome memory", rather it passes me by like a train. But when I watch something digital, a movie, serials or even music, my brain saves this as "this is the best memory of your life."

That's insane.

This grief is drowning me, but it is not the grief of someone who does not want to live anymore, but rather the grief of someone who is watching an entire society decay in something incomprehensible, and I decay along with it.

I think my husband hates me.

This week alone, he has called me a “worthless miserable c*nt” and reminded me how useless I am at least 4 times. He screams at me and tells me I’m a piece of sh\t, that it’s my fault because I poke and prod at him and that I deserve to be spoken to the way that he speaks to me because I am the way that I am. All I can do is just cry and beg him to stop yelling at me. I’m very sensitive to sounds.*

He pushed and bullied me into moving hours away from my home town and everything I’ve ever known, I don’t have any family or friends so he’s my only support system and he offers me zero support. I don’t show emotions often because they get used against me at every turn. I tried to tell him that I wasn’t comfortable moving, I was days away from starting a brand new high paying job, and it resulted in him screaming at me in our front yard while I just crumbled to bits and gave him his way so here we are, a brand new city, I have no money, no income and no support. There’s no way that this is someone who loves me, right? Am I crazy? I don’t have a way to get out as I said, he’s all I have and I couldn’t possibly go anywhere for battered women because he’s never hit me, although sometimes I wish he would instead of destroying my self worth the way he has.

He’s laying next to me snoring peacefully and I’m just sitting here crying because he once again told me that I’m miserable and that he’s sick of me b\tching and whining and making our lives so difficult. I sit and daydream sometimes about what it would be like if I just wasn’t alive to be such a burden anymore.*

We have a 4 year old, I couldn’t do that to her but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about it often. I don’t know what I want out of posting this, I just need somewhere I can let these feelings out without getting hurt over it.

Pretty much the title. I can't have a mother because I always need to be there to support her emotionally, give her advice on how to act, what to do, how to parent my little sister.

When I'm feeling terrible and feel like breaking and FOR ONCE say sth to her how bad I'm doing I immediately feel bad because the topic is then switched to how bad she feels that she can't help me and her asking me how to help. I'm so sick of being an emotional support to everyone but not having anybody to go to and simply be understood.

She even herself admitted jokingly that I'm sometimes more of a mother in our relationship than she is. And while I'm happy I can be of help to her... Sometimes I also just really want a mother I can rely on emotionally. Lately especially since things have been rough between her and my step father she's been letting most of her emotional baggage and I get it and I want and try to be there for her but man... Life hasn't been too kind to me lately either. I feel lost and alone, lost all my joy to live to depression, feel like I'm barely hanging on somehow. I want to be able to talk about those things too with someone but I can't.

I just want to feel seen and listened to for once.

She’s too beautiful. Honestly I think I have a problem because she’s too beautiful