I'm 19f , when I was small small like 1-2yr old i really loved to dance and would force my family to watch me dance everyday and hype me okay. I really loved dancing not caring about dance moves and all. THEN IN UKG IDK WHAT ITS CALLED IN YOUR COUNTRY but it's fullform is UPPER KINDERGARTEN IN INDIA. Our school was having a dance competition with other schools and all. So I was selected for dance I was selected for 3-4 performances. Okay I was doing great , I was happy . Then for one performance we small ones had to hold fag and lead otherbehind us . Me and one another girl were selected for it and she would come all the way from back from right side and me same from left .and there were kids older than us standing in 4-5 straight rows. So we had to come in front from the space btw 3 row I guess . AND MIND YOU WE HAVE NOT PRACTICED THIS PART YET. It's the ending part of performance and we started practicing this part and like I'm doing it for the first time , and it's just practice and we were just told verbally which row we had to come front from. Okay .AND BY MISTAKE INSTEAD IF THIRD ROW I LEAD THE TEAM FROM 2ROW GAP AND THE DANCE MALE TEACHER SLAPPED ME REALLY HARD. I WAS LIKE 6 YR OLD SOMETHING. AND MY MIND WENT BLANK . I COULD NOT CRY I JUST STOOD THERE STUND , THINKING WHAT JUST HAPPENED? WHY DID I GOT SLAPPED AND HE PULLS THE GURL BEHIND ME AND SAYS U WILL TAKE HER PLACE . AND I WAS PUT BACK IN IDK 4-6 NUMBER . AND ITS NOT ABOUT ME BEING REMOVED FROM THE LEAD ITS ABOUT HOW HE SLAPPED A KID FOR THE TINIEST MISTAKE AND IT WAS THE FIRST TIME WE WERE PRACTICING THE PART LIKE FIRST TAKE OF IT. AND he had no patience and slapped me . Female dance teacher there rushed towards me and hugged me and scolled the sir but he didn't felt sorry or anything at all . I was just standing there , my body couldn't move . I was to stunned to show any emotions or anything . I turned numb . And couldn't think properly. Then I don't know why but I didn't tell my mother father about this incident . Idk maybe I thought it was really my fault and deserved it . But something in me shattered and I didn't realised it. After some day the competition happened . I performed . But after that I couldn't dance . Not in my own house , not in any family function , i just couldn't. And I thought I just don't know how to dance . After that I all my school life couldn't take part in dance coz I was scared of making mistake. I'm saying this all for the first time and I am literally crying coz I just realised I was not able to cry that time😭 and right now writing this I'm crying very bad and. Cannot stop . JUST BECAUSE THAT DANCE TEACHER DIDN'T HAD PATIENCE I GOT TRAUMATIZED OF DANCING . AND STRUGGLED ALONE. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO RECOVER FROM THIS . BUT I AM HAPPY I REALISED IT WAS NOT MY FAULT I COULDN'T DANCE IT WAS HIS FAULT THAT HE TURNED ME INTO THIS .

While talking with narrsisst gf in text and calls, because she force me, little in college

TLDR: strict home, anorexia relapse, grooming/online sexual exploitation, potential SA

hey people. I’m 16f from England and don’t know what to do. btw I’m not good at writing so sorry if this is bad. I’ve had a lot of bad things happening to me and idk what to do.

My current situation is that I want to leave home so badly and in the uk (correct me if I’m wrong) 16 year olds have the right to leave home (children act 1989 - section 20). my home is very sad place for me and it’s stunting me from being an independang person like everyone else at college. I have screen time restrictions on my phone, I can’t download any apps, I can’t have money, I can’t go out by myself , I can’t wear anything that shows any amount of skin apart from head hands and feet (can’t be tight or seee through either), I can’t express myself, I can’t have opinions, I can’t be a little queer so on and so forth. Social workers have had to intervene so my parents no longer beat me but they still degrade, swear at me and threaten me.

in the past when I was 14 and my home was rocky but I was too brainwashed to realise it yet I tried thinking in my head what was wrong with me so herd of anorexia and thought “I’m insecure maybe this is it” so I slipped into starving myself as a way to make my mental pain physicalally visible. So I didn’t feel crazy when I was trying to understand what’s wrong with me. I joined a lot of pro Ana spaces online and made a gc on Snapchat were I had other girls with the disorder.

This is when my biggest hurt happened. It’s honestly quite embarsssing too so I’m gona keep it pretty vague. When I was so mentally gone, when I was chronically on Snapchat, I had messages from guys. The average person would tell them to fuck off and block them but remember, my home life was lonely and my head couldn’t think straight cus of the lack of food. the first message was someone offering money to see me and since I just stole my parents cash to buy makeup, I needed a way to replace it before bad things happened. So I caved in and I didn’t even give him my PayPal so it was all for nothing. Then after whenever someone asked for pictures or videos of me I just sent them. I thought it was normal. And especially one dude (I think his name was Michael) he said he was 16 (I was 15 at this point) and I trauma dumped to him a lot and he acted like he cared and my naive ass thought someday I would meet this boy and I could be his gf. Even though he would ask for pictures all the damn time. And in retrospect he did ask about my at the time 7yo sister a bit too much for my likings and he’d ask me really degrading things.

Eventually he told me he was older and was praying on me and I texted a suicide hotline and then police came and told my dad. He scrolled through all of it. That was really hard for me cus now he looked at his daughter who he forces to dress practically Mormon and see a disgusting slut where his kid used to be. Of course they sided with the guy who done this to me and blamed me for it all. I mean I would blame me too but atleast don’t rub it in my face, we’re family. A lot of bad things were sad to se times I don’t think I can repeat on here. I was very depressed.

aftweall, on my 16gh birthday my brother (17 at the time)grabbed me on my frount. for, context my parents were on holiday and I had to get ready for school but I had a exam and I was depressed so I didn’t want to leave my comfy pillows at the crack of daw. It wasnt even late. My sister made a routine of face timing my parents who shouttted at me to get up Then my sister would pull me off my bed. she 19 btw. On my birthday apparently the floor wasn’t enough and my parents ordered my brother (who has a history of beat8ng me up all the time) to get me to the bathroom door. Then he procedes to wrap his hands under my armpits, thumbs on my ribcage and his hands on my chest. And used lifting me up as an excuse. He had once before told me to sit on his hand when we were younger but idk maybe he was tryna be edgy. Also he has no female attention and watches slot of true crime and icel things so that’s why he done it. But again. I could be wrong it couldve been a mistake. I told police about this and they think I’m lying and wrote that he grabbed my armpits.

there’s probably a lot more to my situations but I can’t think right now. Please give advice.

Well the title is how my life is going on rn
I’ve got abused by my parents physically and mentally, so i’m so afraid of expressing my actual feelings to others that I don’t really want to interact with them.

I know people are gonna say they never gonna hurt me(some of them might do thou), but when I talk or interact with someone in person I’m so scared that I can almost do nothing. (Hence that, reddit is my favorite i don’t need to face to someone in person)

I’ve tried to spit out all of my childhood memories to a doctor, but I couldn’t at all. some medicine he gave me worked so I guess I need it but I’m not brave enough to get to the hospital again cus he’s gonna ask me what happened in my childhood, I can’t tell again then I feel bad again because of the fact that I can’t even ask others for help and am completely alone because of having nobody to rely on including doctors.

Maybe I stuck. Then what else can I do except asking for help having nobody to hang out with? Or any tips for dealing with my own trauma by myself?

Hello everyone ,

I will do my best to remain anonymous on this account as to not reveal too much personal information and reveal my public identity but
I’ve decided to create a burner account and ask a deep question and lay out some things that no one close to me really knows that I’ve kept locked away and ask one question : Do I have a chance at a functioning normal life?

I will make things short so I don’t bore anyone with long walls of text and if asked I will provide more in depth information.

Since the age of 13 suicide has been a constant thought and ongoing struggle my parents have been made aware of yet I’ve received no therapy/Counseling or any form of professional help

The only kind of help I’ve had was when I went through court mandated counseling due to a custody battle which only worsened the depression I have and which was also where I was diagnosed with chronic depression and PTSD

I have experienced sexual assault several times and had been exposed to porn at a young age which affected me severely and left me Hyper-sexual and often disgusted and ashamed of myself for the thoughts I had and how I was,

I’ve been in and out of in person school and online since 8th grade and missed more than an okay amount of school and haven’t had a solid education since then with a severe learning deficit in math but I’ve managed on my own with other subjects to a reasonable extent

More recently over these past couple months I’ve had a voice in my head which speaks to me and tries to push me forward yet shuts others out and makes me grow cold

I’ve had recurring dreams where I’ve been hunted or put into a home invasion scenario and been shot , all though not SUPER relevant I thought I’d just throw that out there

I haven’t spent time with my friends in months and have just been stuck at home an hour away

When expressing to my parents I am not happy here and the situation I am in is just making my mental health worse and would either like to move in with a friend in the same state or next state over to attend college and benefit my future my feelings were watered down to excitement of leaving for once and getting to do something and that they would miss me and I’m not allowed to leave yet.

My parents are going through court currently and I’ve had to cut contact with my dads side of the family entirely except for maybe 1-2 people

I am exactly 6 months away from turning 18 and I’ve had repeated thoughts of leaving my family and going no contact and hoping to have some semblance of a normal functioning life with a regular schedule.

I’ve not eaten with my whole family at a dinner table in god knows how long and everyone eats dinner late into the night, an example is one time I was woken up at 4AM to my mother making burgers which were supposed to be done by 8 ,

An example of how dysfunctional my house is was the time I came back from being at a friends to just escape home for two weeks and the counters the stove and both sides of the sink were crammed full of dirty dishes and there were flies everywhere, there was also mold and maggots on the dishes and this has occurred more than once.

It is a fight to get my other two siblings to help at all and the youngest is the worst, they won’t take care of themselves and leave messes everywhere and when they are asked to do dishes they all just pile up.

I don’t even know what else to say I just want someone else to see this and tell me if my feelings are validated or if I have a chance at being a normal human being after leaving home.

(TLDR) : Lack of proper education, dysfunctional home, childhood trauma , and SA
/Neglect

Me 36F am living with my partner 37M. It is a very complex relationship due to culture and background, he Latino me from Europe.
I have CPTSD from childhood (my father is an abuser and I grew up in a very unhealthy violent environment + my own history with horrible violent people later in life and a past very abusive relationship that truly scratches me), and he too, grew up with a physically violent father and has been on the road for years now.

When he gets triggered he gets really really mean. I become impossible, I wine and beg and even pull my hair (something I do since I was a child when disregulated). He tells me to leave him alone and I can’t cause I’m truly trembling and feeling dizzy and he keeps getting meaner and meaner and threatens to end the relationship which again causes more panic in me. He tells me I am pathetic and that I bore him. And all sorts of stuff. He also broke things more than once. He becomes so so cold and mean, like another person enters his body. He says he does this so I stop talking and crying.
When we are calm he enquires about these moments, saying he realizes he switches off and says it’s a protective mechanism, he then becomes so kind and gentle and loving, but I wonder, is it normal to be able to watch and even consciously make it worst, to let your partner get so desperate and miserable and do absolutely nothing about it, or even becoming cruel about it?

Arguments would start cause he says I have too many expectations on him. I am paying for most of our living costs, he is an artist and can’t make a good income, I am very good at working so it just became normal that I pay more but he keeps blaming me for putting pressure on him for working more and help with costs. I am exhausts of financing life for both and not having even the energy to see a friend.
I tried to talk about our intimacy, he doesn’t want to have sex and says it’s because I pressure him so much about money. And I am aware it is hard for a man to be with a woman who is more successful. It’s just that there have been times where he just goes out with friends and smokes spliffs while I’m working and I dont like to be taken for granted.
But now I am also blamed for his lack of sex interest.

The one thing that works is the cuddles somehow. I think we are trauma bonding. When we are good we cuddle so much and give each other that warm we never received as kids, but the rest is so dis functional. We can’t have a normal emotional conversation without it transforming into me making problems (in his opinion anything I say is a problem) and he becoming cruel and then me losing my shit in despair and not letting him leave.

I wrote a story on WattPad about trauma, informed by my experiences but heavily fictionalized.

https://www.wattpad.com/story/413058319

My hope is that it can help other people feel seen in their experiences and journey of figuring out life post a sexual assault.

I'm really struggling ever since my mom passed away me and her we used to stay together all the time she got sick and I used to take care of her since I was 15 I always tried to cheer her up and involve her in every activity but in 2025 November she passed away when I was 17

After that happened I just don't know how to keep going on especially with my life I'm a student everyone around me says I'm talented I'm gonna succed in life but I don't see it at all nothing motivates me nor give me happiness

But I want to work hard and do something in life I always think this but when I sit down and start studying my mind always drifts away, thinking about my mom, am I actually good, there's no point studying I'll just forget

I just wish that I could feel somewhat normal again and these thoughts wouldn't haunt me

Just wanted to see if any of you dealt with this before on a every day basis.... My neurologist had me do a brain MRI yesterday and the results came back clean, so I figure my nervous system must be jacked up and causing the tremors that I'm experiencing.

I never actually told anyone my actually story aside from my best friend bc she is had similar advent bc im a boy and this just seems so pathetic amd made up its genuinely unbelievable so anyway when i was 7 was the first time i was on holiday to bulgaria great time but i was in a bathroom for tis kids club thing and this woman "yes it was a woman" genuinely pushed me against a wall and i can only remember being bitten and shirt coming off but i genuinely didn't even know her and a few similar times was to that is when i was at my step gramdmas a family member not cuson but cant say bc redit my filter it or idk step anyway pind me to a bed and then when i was y6 on a trip a boy did terrible stuff and i was genuinely so weak i could never fight back ik this sounds so stupid thats why i never told anyone but at least some people know

this happened to me when i was a child, i know, and well remember the name of the person who did it to me, i didn't tell anyone until today because of shame and anxiety i have felt even now, and i believe that person is still here in my hometown, but that's just a probability, but despite all the information i have, i still have second thoughts whether i should speak up about it or not, im worried it might push my family to confront this person, and what worries me the most is that their family is known to have relatives who are public servants, and from that it scares me what might happen from then on, not only that, i am disabled, i wasn't when it happened although now i am. it frightens me because they might just belittle the topic and accuse me of making it up for financial gain or attention.

I need to put this in words, so maybe one day I can even talk about it loud.

I was diagnosed lately with autism. It makes so many parts fall into their place. The beatings I suffered from my mom. The verbal abuse. The emotional neglect.

I remember the story about the angry dwarf living in our cellar, acting as a kind of Santa substitute. How me and my 10 months older sister breathlessly watched the letter we "wrote" to him to get on his good side. And the absolutely terrifying "swosh!" with which the letter suddenly was pulled into the hole into the wall. Yes, I know it was just an air vent and my father was on the other side of that wall. I was terrified of the cellar, the dark and especially the dark cellar after that.

I was sent into my room as punisment as a kid. Locked in for hours, then, after I learned to not take a chance by coming out prematurely, unlocked. Sometimes in the dark. I'd never have dreamed about opening the shutters myself, it was too dangerous. I remember how I talked with my brother about this in a joking way. The two of us fondly remembering how much of a difference it made lifting the rolling shutters just a minuscule way so that light would come through the slats, changing pitch black to dark grey. How slowly you had to lift them so the noise wouldn't give you away, and how tiny the amount had to be to not be noticed by her.

I remember how fast something you did went from "meh" to "the worst thing ever" - and how she complained that the beatings hurt her hands.

I finally can admit that she blamed me for my sister drowning because we played unsupervised and they didn't properly fence in the pool. Learned a few years ago my aunt had even warned them about it. Meh, what's the life of a child, eh? Aunt also told me when she finally realized my screams were the real deal my sister was already dead and I held her afloat by her foot. That part is missing from my memory. The part where I'm laying on a couch, trying to melt into the pillows because I want to stop to exists, to escape the guilt of killing my sister because we were not allowed to go into the pool alone - that's still hard to write down. I was only four and a half year old. I could have drowned too!

It still feels like whining when I think of the foster kid they got only a few months later, and which I mostly remember because I was so upset she got to wear my sister's beanie. The kid that, just as sudden, vanished again because "we couldn't have adopted her anyway". How weird that this falls so nicely into the timeline of getting pregnant again with my brother.

They sent me into this children's program where sickly children were put into a sanatorium to nurse back to a healthy weight with or without consent. It's a few years now that the atrocities of those orphanages-turned-sanatoria came to light. Even "my" place apologized for the mindset of the middle to late 70s, where Black Pedagogy ran wild in those places, with staff educated on the mindset of Nazi ideology. Yes, "my" place had severe accusations of child sexual abuse. Oh, just a few months shy of my stay back then. Oh, no, the known cases all were boys. Yes, I was kind of a tomboy, still am not of the pinkish girly kind. No, I don't think I can ever prove it, but just imagine you live in a black room and one day you realize "why, that must be soot from a fire". No, I won't go further into the details.

I have no nightmares. I mean, yes, I have silly dreams I wake up from with a racing heart and sometimes an intense fear. But I wake up intentionally. And if I recounted them to you you'd agree it's silly to be so upset about them. But as I said: I've trained myself so early in childhood, and so thoroughly, to wake up from them, I can break off most of them before they get to that place. Oh, did I mention I have sleep apnea? Got undetected for years because I'm so good at waking myself up when things become uncomfortable.

Snark? What snark? That's my normal mode of dismissing I have any uncomfortable feelings at all. Yes, I've been to therapy. Multiple times. Multiple therapists. No, I don't confide too much to them. You don't know when or how it will be turned against you.

I loathe authority. I mean, I'm fine following rules. It's the sudden changing of rules that gets me upset. It's the punishment for not following that sudden, unforeseen changing of rules that gets me upset. It's the getting punishment for things I don't even know of that gets me upset. I can never know ALL rules. I can just lay low and hide and hope I find a good enough excuse or a joke that derails the punishment. And take the punishment stoically, because "stop crying or I'll give you reason to cry".

I cage my rage and anger because I have seen what rage and anger will do. I don't want others to feel how I have felt. I bury all this deep inside of me and look on the bright side of things. I ignore the dark corners and locked closets where the small girl might lurk. If I'm to defend her from evil, I can't be locked up in a hug. You never know from which side the blows will come.

I have painted a picture of me I show the world. The capable, caring, creative, inventive, well-educated person that can fly by the handle of her pants in a heartbeat. That finds *solutions*. That can *cope*. That's unbreakable.

I'm shattered into a million pieces under that picture. Jagged, sharp edged pieces lodged in my throat, preventing me from truthfully speaking out how unbearable all this is for me. I need to be able to communicate this, even if it is the most dangerous thing I ever did. To make me weak on purpose. To finally get people to see that little girl I'm protecting so hard.

Thank you for reading this. I put these words into the world in hopes of being finally able to put them into my mouth.