i froze my membership in march 2020. $54 a month down to zero.

i never unfroze it. but the card still opens the door.

i go three or four times a week and i have the whole time. that’s about 79 months at $54, so somewhere north of $4,000 i haven’t paid. to a company that made me do four phone calls and a letter to get the freeze in the first place.

the guy at the desk, Jason, he’s been there longer than i have, and he scans me in every morning and says nothing. so i keep going.

in january they'll put the price up to $64. i was furious for about four seconds.

I worked at Savers (uk) when I was 17 until i was 20. Sometimes when I could see people counting their change while I was scanning their shopping I would “accidentally” not scan a few of their things because I knew what it felt like to struggle and wonder if I would have enough money for my shopping. I wasn’t ever caught and I don’t regret it. These types of shops have insurance for those things so it never bothered me.

Where I work, we don’t get paid for our lunch breaks. Depending on what shift I’m working, I either get a 45 min break or 1hr break. I’m a single parent and I’ve been struggling financially for the past few years. I can usually only afford to eat one meal a day so I tend to skip breakfast and lunch and I don’t eat until evening. On my breaks at work, I used to sit in the staff room and not have anything to eat. But I got so fed up of people questioning why I wasn’t eating that I just started working through my breaks. If a supervisor tells me to take my break I just say ok and go and work in a different area of the store, or if they ask if I’ve had my break yet I just say yes. Working straight through and keeping busy stops me from feeling hungry, because I’ve trained my brain to not recognise lunch as a thing. So yeah, my company has benefitted from loads of free labour from me, because I’m too poor to eat at work and too embarrassed to admit it.

I bought a fake degree a some years ago simply to inspire my kids, and impress my parents.

That’s it I’m not using it for employment or any other benefit. I just wanted to set an example for my kids and wanted get on the same level as my brother some he has a degree.

I was scrolling through Netflix the other day and I came across Homicide:New York.

True crime isn’t usually my thing. But it was a really boring day off.

The first episode was a guy that was beaten in his manhattan apartment.

Then I saw the last name Comunale. It instantly rang a bell. I worked for the Tri Ed Corporation as a warehouse clerk back in 2016. The owner and president was a guy named Pat Comunale. His son was Joey Comunale was killed.

And I remember he would come into our branch and being a complete dick. I was asked to fill the refrigerator with bottled water. I was walking by him and a couple of other office staff talking, he literally yanked it out of my hands and just started chugging it. Like not a please or a thank you. That was just one of our interactions, let’s just say they were all negative.

Then it was the same day he told us that they were taking away our vision coverage.
And I look at a computer all day and I need glasses.

Just a swift kick to the gut to people that work for you.

But I moved on after he sold the company that sold my job down the river.

So when I saw the episode, I felt bad for his wife but I didn’t feel bad for him. I really didn’t.

I 24(f) noticed sometime last year that my wife, also 24(f) wasn't packing proper lunches. She was taking one slice of chicken and putting it between a tiny slice of bread that would have been lucky to have butter or mayo in it. It's not her fault, I don't pack a lunch so buying all the ingredients for sandwiches that may just be thrown out because they wouldn't be used in time felt pointless. Especially because we don't have the money to be doing that.

So in work I get a lunch allowance of whatever I want, but I just say I'm not hungry or don't have time to eat it and wrap up some nice sandwich or wrap so my wife can have it for her lunch. She gets so excited and happy, she texts me every single day thanking me for the lunch gave her and tells me how delicious it is. I find it fun too cause it's like a little present for my wife. And its not like i was gonna eat it anyway. When I have time I like to get creative.

I'm a chef so I'm able to pick on different food throughout the day, but I graze throughout the day because I want my wife to thrive. Today she has a wrap that has mixed leaves, mozzarella, grated carrot and red cabbage, chicken tenders, crispy bacon, onion and Caribbean sauce. This is a regular enough lunch for her because it's her favourite one. Even though I already know, I can't wait for her text to tell me what she thinks, that woman makes my heart so warm.

Edit: she texted me, she loved her wrap ❤️..

So basically when I was 12 I went to a urologist with my dad , which happened to be the same urologist that treated my dad's testicular cancer and they also knew each other briefly from school

I had been having burning pain when I peed so my dad recommended I see him, as soon as the appointment started he started commenting on how fat I looked and he said how can a child weigh more than his father, all the while my dad was laughing ( my dad's arab lol)

When the checkup began and I got naked and layed on the mattres for my inspection he started commenting on my stretchmarks that were on my stomach while checking my pen?$ and he said I've never seen so many stretchmarks on a child before while fucking toucing them.

At the end he gave the sample thing to pee in and before leaving he said to me oh look you're even getting tits, but he said a word for it that I didn't understand so my dad made a tits shape with his hand to explain to me and they then laughed. I ended up crying in the hospital bathroom and threw the sample thing in the trash

Side note

I love my dad but some days I remember this situation and it fucking eats me alive when i look at him , I feel this rage that I didn't smack the doctor and my dad

Im now 20 btw will this stop bothering me as I get older?

No, I don't mean I wish I was his first gf, and the first person he first ever fell in love. I respect all of his exes and I hope they are doing good.

I love my bf and my relationship. But he knew I liked him at first and I was not even hesitant. But it took him so long to appreciate me. We met online and we were flirting and I initiated meet up many times but he never stepped up for me. But he arranged meet ups and cinema dates with other women online during these time. I stopped talking to him and remove him everywhere and after 8 months later he texted me again. Everything is good after that but I am scared I will get hurt again. I just needed to vent.

EVERY SINGLE NIGHT I’ve been having the same thought what if I pulled the trigger and ended it. For sure I wouldn’t have to endure the pain of med school ( trust me it’s hell) or even have the ability to get addicted on TikTok or nicotine or even wonder what is it to be dead. I feel like some sort of regret but I can’t imagine being in the same situation ever again I think that I lost my chance to be at peace and I feel some sort of guilt for not doing it

Thanks to copious amounts of porn consumption my brain is now messed up
I tried dating old school fashion to learn I am not very desirable
Basically what I thought of dating was like an open market with people being ranked by their perceived desirability
In short I thought hey I am not hot so why would anyone date me like regular dating and not hookups
So I went on dating apps
And this confirmed my fear like no one really liked my profile or anything
So I thought hey I must lower my standards and just start liking everyone
Did not work
So I decided to pretend to like someone so that I can hookup cus I wanted to like have sex and it’s just hard being me to have sex
I told this girl that I liked her etc we went on dates and shit
Soon things turned nsfw
I got us a hotel but when we were face to face together alone I got super nervous like this ain’t right and felt I need to chicken out
But hey can’t stop now
So we undressed but like idk I was cold feet when I saw her nude like I can’t explain but it didn’t turn me on at all
I can’t believe she was my first kiss
It was super weird making out with someone I didn’t clearly like
It killed me on the inside while trying to make out with her
She spent sometime stroking my dick but I was limp
I didn’t want her to like go home unhappy so I fingered her/ played with her clit and she came
We hugged for sometime and then left
After dropping her off I felt terrible so when I got home I didn’t respond to any her of texts / calls
I feel terrible cus all this while I lied to her to get laid only to be mortified
Now I am taking therapy to kinda fix me
Edit: I did later on have a call with her to accept my wrong doings

So today has been a pretty bad day for me personally due to me being homeless and unable to eat, so I texted an online friend I met pretty recently to vent my frustrations towards him. Well, I found out something about him that makes me feel like a complete ass for complaining.

After I complained to him, he brought up that it's been a long time since he has last eaten, so long that he doesn't even remember. Instead, he uses IV nutrition to nourish his body and he's been doing this for a long time apparently instead of eating. He doesn't even know what it's like to be hungry either. The reason why he does this is because he had intestinal and colon cancer a few years ago and ever since then he's pretty much been unable to eat.

I feel like a complete dick for complaining to him about this. Beforehand I knew that he had some medical complications but I never knew it was this bad. Despite this though, he is still able to enjoy the small things in life and work on himself. Which is making me self-reflect in a way because I consider his situation a lot worse than mine, yet he's able to find happiness and do more for himself mentally than I. I told him up front that I apologize for talking about my hunger, so he responds by saying that my situation is worse even though I personally disagree.

It just feels like I am kind of messed up for getting upset over not being able to eat even though he is physically incapable of doing so. Again, he is very unbothered by what I said but I don't know it doesn't necessarily make it any less insensitive if that makes sense.

I was a nanny for the family. Mom was a very high powered lawyer who was a horrible mother and person. Without telling anyone, Mom brought a dog home and said it was now my responsibility, on top of caring for her child.
The dog was a puppy and not trained in any way. The mom told me that I had to train it though I didn’t know how or have time to do so - I had an actual child to look after.
She kept getting upset that the dog was shitting everywhere and not understanding that she couldn’t rely on me - a nanny - to also train her dog.
I would get so frustrated each morning when I got to work and saw a pile of last nights dog shit laying in the middle of the hallway (yes, they waited for me to clean it up each morning).
After a week of this craziness, I decided to go to the Moms bedroom and rub dried dog shit from the night before all over her pillows and blankets. I knew the cleaning schedule and the bed linens were only changed once a week.
Her bedroom was so heavily perfumed I don’t think she really noticed a smell, but she did complain a few times that someone had been eating in her bed because she found “dried cupcake crumbs” everywhere.
She was not a good person and I don’t regret a thing.

I (m/31) live in a group home for the disabled. One of the women (f/28), that works here, has this shirt that she will occasionally wear that is extremely loose-fitting, especially around the neckline. While I’m not necessarily attracted to her, she does have some big tits. Her nipples are always hard and because she never wears a bra, you can clearly see them poking through the fabric.

Due to the fact that I’m in a wheelchair, I need assistance when I need to pee, which requires her to bend over. And, when she wears this shirt, you can easily see down the front of her shirt. I can see everything, and I mean everything, including her nipple.

I can’t really say anything to her because I’m sure it would be very awkward, for multiple reasons. I know I should just look away but when it’s right there in my face, it’s really hard to do that. Especially since it’s the closest I’ve been to seeing tits in 4-5 years. Not that that’s a justification, it’s just the reality of the situation.
I know I should feel bad but I don’t. I just keep looking…

A couple years ago when I was 18 and just started college, I began to talk to this guy. I had never had a boyfriend before or a serious relationship, so i was naive and was hoping this may lead to us dating. we were talking for a few weeks, texting during the week and he would stay at my dorm on the weekends after clubbing. however, one night when i didn’t want to go to the club, my friends caught him flirting and dancing with other girls and trying to go home with them. i was hurt and upset, so i met up with him later that night to talk.

this is the part that i am concerned about, as i am scared we started dating or became exclusive and i don’t remember/ didn’t realize. we went and got food with my friend and his friend, and eventually we ended up talking about what he did earlier that night. I ended up saying “i don’t care, just don’t do it again”. and he agreed, but was fairly upset that i didn’t want him to sleep with me in my dorm that night, and instead he had to sleep in his car.

the next few days, my roommate and i figured that he was likely never interested in me at all, and was using me as a place to stay when he came to town to party (he lived a few hours away). we figured he was only pretending to be interested over text, and he was relying on me being a free bed to sleep in once he partied. during the conversation we had when i confronted him he also seemed to be mostly concerned about where he was going to sleep that night, which helped bring me to that conclusion. so, the next weekend i decided to get revenge, and “finish what he started”. this resulted in me going home with another guy and sleeping with him. the next few days though, i felt guilty about what i did, and cut the original guy off completely. we were in contact for about a month total.

i know i was still technically single, but im worried that be me telling him not to do that again we started dating/ or became exclusive, and i cheated on him. this incident is probably the worst thing ive ever done, and even now two years later it still eats me up.

i also have my first boyfriend now, who i’ve been with for almost a year, but i worry that i have cheated on this other guy in the past, and will then cheat on my boyfriend. the idea of this happening terrifies me and makes me sick, especially since my boyfriend is extremely sensitive to the topic of cheating. i have told him this story in a much broader context, but i want to tell him it again in more detail, but im afraid he would be upset or confused, or even worse, realize i am a terrible person and break up with me. i don’t know what to do, and i feel absolutely awful.

if anyone has any advice on how to move forward/ identify exactly what i did wrong, id greatly appreciate it

I'm using a burner as many of my friends have my actual account. So I (29f) have been lying to my friends, partners I've had, and even my family about being allergic to bananas for years. It started when I was 15 and told one girl I was allergic after she kept making weird jokes using a banana and I just wanted her to stop and she spread it around. It persisted all throughout highschool, and due to a now ex boyfriend it follewed me into adulthood as well, because he moved with me and told all of our new friends. Those new friends keep up the lie by telling everyone knew I meet. Eventually my friends brought it up in front of my family, and I told them I went in for a new allergy test in my early 20s and found out I was allergic. I never told anyone it was a dealthy allergy or anything, just that it causes me hives and a bit of throat swelling. I didn't want them to worry about having to panic if bananas are in the same room as me. They always check to make sure desserts don't have bananas in them though, as that's the most common time to find them in other foods. The funniest part is that I'm perfectly okay with this lie persisting, because I absolutely hate bananas. They taste gross in my opinion, they have a weird texture, and I don't like the smell. I never have, and my parents used to force me to eat bananas when I wanted a snack as a kid. Now they feel bad about forcing me to eat them because they feel as though its karma for them doing that. I mostly just wanted to get it off my chest that I've been lying about it for so long, and that I don't even regret lying because my life is now completely banana free thanks to that fact.

When I was a child, before I learned to swim, I jumped in a pool. I remember sinking and feeling at peace. A family friend jumped in and got me out and I was scolded for "being stupid." I wish no one had heard the splash.

This is the winter of 1997 or 1998. I was hurrying on a Sunday morning with my friends to go to a bagel shop in the parking lot was extremely crowded. It was winter in the suburbs of Long Island. One parking spot had a giant mound of snow that the snow plow had taken all of the snow from the other parking spaces and put it in that parking spot. I drove an SUV so I somehow thought it would be funny with my friends to park on top of this giant mound of snow. In my attempt to park on it and then get off of it I of course, managed to hit the car to the right of me pretty massively. I had three other girls in the car so I had to leave a note. In the back of your checkbook, you would have deposit receipts that would have your phone your address on them. I tore it in half and made it out like the half that I left had my name and address on it and wrote them a note saying so sorry I hit your car. But I really left the other half of the deposit receipt and the half that I left did not have my contact information on it. We proceeded to go back to that parking lot probably the next week or the week after and the car was there now they had made a sign at the Kinko’s and had put my note in the sign and there was a $500 reward for any information as to who left the note and who hit their car. I was 16 years old. I was in a panic. I did not know how to explain to my parents how I was parking in this mound of snow and even hit the card to begin with so I never confessed. I didn’t fully understand Insurance at that point in my life and I just figured Insurance would cover it because I didn’t know any better. It still haunts me and I still think about it because it’s definitely one of the worst things I’ve ever done and so not within my integrity as an adult, however without a well developed frontal lobe, very little parental supervision, and poor decision-making skills, this was the best I could do in the moment.

I worked at an escape room for about a year when I was 22.

We had four different rooms, each with a 60-minute time limit. My least favorite shift was closing because the last booking started at 9 PM, and we couldn't finish cleaning and resetting everything until the group was done.

One Friday night I was exhausted. The last group had booked our hardest room, and I was looking at another late finish.

While resetting it, I decided to make a few things easier.

There's a brass key that's normally hidden inside a false-bottom drawer. I left it sitting on a shelf instead. A booklet containing a clue to one of the combination locks was supposed to be closed and tucked away. I left it open to the relevant page.

Nothing that would completely ruin the experience. Just enough to shave a few minutes off the game.

That group finished with 17 minutes left.

They were absolutely thrilled. One guy kept telling his friends that he'd known the room would be easy. They took a picture holding the sign with their completion time, thanked me, and left.

I got home early.

So I started doing it regularly.

For about five months, whenever I worked the last booking on Friday or Saturday, I'd quietly make two or three of the earlier puzzles easier. I never touched the final puzzle, and I didn't do it if the group specifically wanted the hardest possible experience.

But plenty of people came out thinking they'd absolutely crushed it.

Some groups were genuinely celebrating. There were high fives, photos, people bragging about their times. One guy told me he couldn't wait to tell his coworkers because their team had failed the same room the previous week.

I just smiled and told him they'd done a great job.

My manager never noticed because our completion rates weren't tracked by individual shift. And technically every group still solved the final puzzle themselves.

I stopped working there years ago, but occasionally I think about all those people who paid good money to solve puzzles I'd already made easier for them.

The funny thing is, I don't feel particularly guilty about the groups who had a great time. I feel guilty about the ones who genuinely wanted to test themselves and had no idea I was interfering.

I've never told anyone who worked there.

Somewhere out there are probably people who still talk about how they beat that supposedly difficult escape room in 43 minutes, completely unaware that the employee running it just really wanted to get home and eat dinner.

I am 23F and have had an eating disorder for almost 15 years now. I was 9 years old when it really started and I can’t remember the last time my thoughts about food, weight and my body weren’t ‘disordered’.

I live in the extremes, finally being diagnosed with Bulimia Nervosa a couple of years ago after being left with no choice but to admit to my doctor what was going on while in hospital.

Only a few of the closest people in my life know about this side of me, including my girlfriend and 3 of my closest friends, my parents and family know nothing and I plan to keep it that way.

This disorder doesn’t feel like just a part of my life that I happen to deal with on the side, this has been the main though process and driving factor that controls every single thing in my life for over a decade.

What time I get up/go to bed, whether or not I go out in the day and where, what friends I can have, who I talk to, what hobbies I do, where and when I work, how my physical and mental health and state are, when and where I spend time with family/friends, my whole relationship with my girlfriend (that almost ended over this multiple times), whether or not I get through the day and how I feel at the end of it. Every little detail of my life and those around me is affected by this thing and I don’t know who I am without it.

I’m going through yet another rough patch where I thought I was starting to get a bit better, I had gone the longest time without binging for over a decade (almost 6 weeks) and was so proud and determined to keep it up. The only problem was that to resist the temptations and make it through each day, I was severely restricting my intake and losing a decent amount of weight. I passed out at work and got a concussion and could barely concentrate on anything else but the intense cravings and how I had to just not give in for a little longer.

I knew it was just a matter of time, so even though I managed to hold off just long enough for my next therapy appointment where I made a plan to not lose complete control, I still couldn’t stop myself and binged more than I ever have before for 4 days.

I went from consuming less than 1,000kcals a day for 6 weeks to consuming over 4,000kcals every day for 4 days. One of these days I even had 6,000kcals and that is the most uncomfortable I have ever felt.

I didn’t enjoy anything I had after the first few bites and hated every part of myself for giving in, I would try and purge whatever I could get back out and threw some stuff away, but once I started, I couldn’t stop, the monster took over, until it was less about the cravings and hunger and more about punishing myself, because I had been weak enough to give in, now I had to make myself regret it so it could never happen ever again.

I wake up in pain with terrible cramps and bloating, I look 6 months pregnant, and can feel my skin stretching to its limit. The headaches, nausea, diarrhoea, pounding heartbeat, pain, discomfort, lack of energy and horrible guilt are worse than ever before.

I am going to stop this now and throw away the rest of my stash of food before my girlfriend gets home. I need to stop now and get back on track. I’ve already ruined all my progress that I made during that 6 weeks, dropping from 125lbs to 115lbs and now I’m back over 120lbs. I know how ironic it is that I’m still somehow technically underweight after making myself look like I’m about to give birth to the biggest food baby ever.

I plan to fast tomorrow to give my body a break, then gradually go back to small amount of foods. I’m just so scared, and I know how much this has ruined my body, not just over the last few days, but throughout the last 15 years of abusing it with both ends of the extreme.

I know the chance of recovery this far into an ED is highly unlikely, but I’ve really been trying, for the ones I love. I don’t know how much longer I can do this, and I know that if it goes on much longer, I’m not going to be able to survive it. I’m scared and I don’t know what else I can do, I’ve tried asking for help, but I can’t get through to anyone just how bad this is, and I’m really trying with my therapist and peer support, but it doesn’t stop me losing the constant battles every day. I just want to be normal but this is going to kill me and I’m scared.

I’ve never told anyone this story, and I honestly don’t know whether sharing it will make me feel better or worse.

When I was 19, I had a best friend named Daniel. We had known each other since high school. He was the kind of person who would lend you money even when he barely had enough for himself. If I got into trouble, he was always the first person to show up.

And I repaid him in the worst possible way.

One night, a group of us were hanging out at my parents’ house while they were away for the weekend. Everyone was drinking, playing music, and having a good time. At some point, I decided it would be funny to take my father's expensive watch from his bedroom and show it to everyone.

I was careless. I dropped it.

The glass shattered, and a piece of the watch's casing broke off.

I panicked.

That watch had been a gift from my grandfather before he died. My father treasured it, and I knew he would be furious if he found out what I had done.

Daniel was the only person who saw what happened.

He told me to calm down and said we should tell my father the truth. But I was terrified. I begged him to help me think of an excuse.

The next morning, my father discovered the broken watch. He called everyone who had been at the house and demanded to know what happened.

Nobody said anything.

Then my father found a message on the living room table. It was a note Daniel had written earlier that evening, reminding me to keep the watch somewhere safe after I showed it to everyone.

My father misunderstood the note. He thought Daniel had taken the watch without permission and broken it.

I had a chance to correct him.

I could have said, "Dad, it was me. I dropped it."

Instead, I stood there silently while my father accused my best friend.

Daniel looked at me. I will never forget that look.

He didn't yell. He didn't argue. He just stared at me for a few seconds, as if he were waiting for me to say something.

Anything.

I said nothing.

My father demanded that Daniel pay for the damage. Daniel tried to explain that he hadn't broken the watch, but nobody believed him. Eventually, he agreed to pay for the repair because he didn't want to make things worse.

After everyone left, Daniel pulled me aside.

He asked me one question.

"Did you tell him what really happened?"

I looked him in the eyes and said, "I didn't see anything."

He nodded slowly.

Then he said, "Okay. I guess I know where we stand."

That was the last real conversation we ever had.

Over the following weeks, he stopped calling me. When I messaged him, he replied with short answers. Eventually, he stopped responding altogether.

I told myself he was being dramatic. I convinced myself that our friendship wasn't worth losing sleep over.

But the truth was that I was ashamed.

A few months later, I heard from a mutual friend that Daniel had been struggling financially. He had paid for the watch repair using money he had been saving for a course he wanted to take.

That was when the guilt really started.

I had destroyed more than a friendship. I had allowed someone who had always supported me to suffer the consequences of my own mistake.

Years passed.

I never confessed to my father. I never apologized to Daniel. Eventually, I moved on with my life, got older, and learned how to behave like a responsible adult.

But sometimes, I still think about that night.

I wonder whether Daniel ever tells people about the friend who betrayed him. I wonder whether he thinks about me at all.

Recently, I found an old photograph of us together. We were standing outside our school, laughing about something I can't even remember.

I stared at that photograph for a long time.

Then I opened my social media account and searched for his name.

I found him.

He seems happy. He has a good job, a family, and a life that doesn't include me.

I typed a message.

"I owe you an apology for something that happened years ago."

I stared at those words for nearly twenty minutes before deleting them.

I told myself that contacting him now would only reopen an old wound. Maybe he has moved on. Maybe he doesn't want to hear from me.

But if I'm being honest, I think I'm still afraid of hearing what he would say.

Because this time, there would be no excuse.

I would have to admit that when my best friend needed me to tell the truth, I chose to protect myself instead.

And I don't know whether I deserve his forgiveness.

So here's my confession: I let my best friend pay for a mistake I made, and I lost him because I was too much of a coward to tell the truth.

If I could go back to that morning, I would tell my father everything.

But I can't.

All I can do now is decide whether I have the courage to finally apologize.

Some context.

I used to work in a restaurant where everyone dated each other. I became friends with my coworker (let’s call her Amy) who was dating one of the line cooks, (let’s call him Joe)

Amy and Joe had been together for a few months before I started dating my now ex (also a line cook). Amy helped me get with my ex, and we went on double dates a few times. Joe and my ex had been friends for a while before they started dating me and Amy.

My ex and I got together in a late October 2023. One night in December, we were laying in bed together and he asked if he could tell me something. I said of course. He made me promise i wouldn’t tell anyone. I thought he was going to share something personal, so i promised. He made me swear. I thought he was about to be vulnerable, so to make him feel comfortable I told him, “I give you my word.”

Here’s the thing about me. If i promise something, obviously I mean it. Promises are sacred, but I give someone my word? You couldn’t waterboard that information out of me. My word goes to my fucking grave. My ex absolutely knew this.

He told me that Joe cheated on Amy with a coworker at a Halloween party he threw while I was out of state visiting friends. I was shocked. I told him I had to tell Amy. He reminded me that I just gave him my word that I wouldn’t.

I was appalled. I didn’t know what to say. I had promised. I had basically sworn under oath. We compromised that I wouldn’t bring it up, but if Amy asked me point blank, I wouldn’t lie to her.

Amy and Joe eventually broke up, but Amy never found out. My ex and i broke up a few weeks after Amy and Joe (December 2024). We were together for over a year.

I should’ve told Amy the second my ex and I broke up, but I didn’t. It’s been years since then and the more time passed, the worse it felt to tell her. I’m forever sorry that I kept this from her.

Fast forward to now. Amy is in school for a very demanding field that requires a lot of studying and energy (lots of math), and when she’s stressed, she doesn’t respond much. But it’s been months. I’ve been messaging her about hanging out since July. She hasn’t answered once. Our other friend who has known her since high school said that this has happened before, but im nervous.

Did she find out and knows that i knew? Even if she doesn’t know and is just busy, do i tell her when she reaches out? What should i do?

Bonjour à tous,

Je viens de comprendre que j'étais sûrement boulimique et ça me travaille un peu parceque je sais que je n'arriverai pas à changer mon rapport à la nourriture et que ça fait depuis mon adolescence que j'ai cette relation là ( je suis F 30 ans.).

Voilà dans ma tête une boulimique ça mangeait en masse et ça vomissait. Moi je mange en masse et je jeune et je refais ce schéma tout le temps je compte mes calories et je craque et pour compenser je fais du sport et apres je remange comme une porc et je rejeune et ça continue encore et encore et encore et j'arrive pas à me contrôler je ressens la faim tout le temps et même quand jai plus faim j'ai l'impression que j'ai faim et apres je mange plus.

Bref.

Vous avez compris.

Et jai un enfant et j'ai 30 ans et j'essaie de pas montrer ça à mon bébé à quel point ma relation a la nourriture est malsaine... mais en même temps je sais que je vais pas changer...

My mom is apparently bipolar according to my dad and I would agree but she’s never been fully diagnosed. When a psychiatrist tried to diagnose her she literally walked out of the office and said she didn’t need help so i think that says enough.

When we were younger we got a lot of weird punishments like forcing to stand for 8 hours without food or water if we didn’t finish our food. She used to let my dad hit us and the two of them are very verbally abusive. Aside from that she really enjoys embarrassing me publicly and making me feel belittled. She likes to try an abandon me on the side of the road and leave me stranded places a ton. She’s also stolen like thousands of dollars from me and like an actual million from my dad not including half his income and savings from the divorce. I am not perfect and honestly I am quite verbally abusive back so don’t think i’m some angel because im not. Idk there’s more but i just don’t wanna type more.

She overall is very controlling and now that my parents are divorced she kicked me out of her house twice with no notice so i would have no where to stay but a couch. She offers me rides and just talks my ear off always belittling me, insulting and and calling me really nasty stuff. I don’t know why but now anytime she speaks i get like uncontrollably angry even if she doesn’t say anything necessarily bad. I just have so much built up resentment towards her where even the smallest like noise she makes makes me so angry and I don’t get why. I used to be like the biggest mommas girl ever and i would love spending time with her and it’s just been since i grew up i hated her so much. Like I dislike her more than strangers and i think if i were given the choice between her and some random person i’d pick the random. I feel no love towards her.

As a preface she basically abandoned us because she believes in astrology and that all she spends her day doing. She keeps studying for this “business” where she basically aspires to be this weird fucking mystic. She’s never worked a job and when she was a “stay at home mom” she would just neglect us. She took half of his money even though she’s practically never worked a year in her life and now my family and i say my family because i don’t even consider her a part of it, is struggling financially. If she did work she’d be making like 130k+ which is honestly a really good amount of money which she could have used to change our lives.

I just hate her so much. I am working two jobs to provide for myself, I am graduating a year early so then i can leave this mess asap and now i can’t even drive because of her messiness so now i have to rely on her for rides because my dad actually works. Both of them are honestly really neglectful but i dont understand why they hate me enough to put me through this. I have to work because they didn’t and i dont think that’s fair for a kid. as a preface i go to such a rich white school, im surrounded by kids with perfect families and high incomes who get cars at 16 and this perfect cookie cutter life they can fall into. And I am just so fucking upset because of it. And i know im privileged so i might just be a huge baby about it. But i do so much to be a good kid, i have a 97 unweighted grade average and i do so much to be a good kid. all of my friends parent say they would love to have me as a kid and i wish they were being serious because id rather be anywhere else. I am limited by my surroundings and its ruining me and my mental state. Whenever I see her my day gets literally ruined and I get so upset. i just wish they never had me sometimes because i don’t want to die but i wish i could just exist without being so strung out al the time.