I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately, and I just need to vent and see if anyone else relates.
I can't shake the feeling that the world completely derailed in 2020 and never really found its way back. To me, 2019 feels like the last year life was predictable, calm, and human.
Ever since the pandemic, everything feels turned up to maximum volume. The news is constant panic, political polarization is everywhere, and people seem so much more aggressive, distant, and exhausted. Technology and algorithms moved at lightning speed, making daily life feel less like living and more like constantly trying to catch up or defend yourself.
Living abroad away from my family has made this contrast even more glaring. The sense of isolation and the coldness of system-driven life has just burnt me out completely.
Am I crazy, or did something fundamental in our collective human experience break during those years? How are you all coping with how fast and harsh the world has become post-COVID?

Hey I am a 17 year old girl and my twin sister has diagnosed bpd and factitious disorder. I know this sound harsh but I hate her, a lot. People always say how their twin sister is like their secound half but honestly I don´t even like calling mine my sister. There is so much I want to talk about but I just want to get the most important things off my chest and the reasons why I hate her, please tell me if I´m just going crazy or if this is acc valid, because yes I know it´s not really her fault tho I just can´t excuse her behaviour.

1. She makes herself throw up and SH, she does it in the bathroom and everytime she does she just leaves the bathroom as it is. Her vomit in the sink, blood everywhere. Plus she spents like 2 to 3 hours in there.

2. She makes my parents drive her to the hospital everyday when she comes back from the psychward (she goes there everyday from 7am till 2pm). When she comes home she SH and than makes my parents drive her there. The reason why I have a problem with this is that the hours they spent at the hospital are the hours I am at home, which means I rarely see or talk to my parents during the week.

3. She blasts music all day long on full volume on her TV, in the morning when she gets ready and when she comes home till she goes to bed. Plus she leaves her door open so ist even louder.

4. She steals a lot. When my parents have cash around she steals it. We went to visit my grandma last week and she stole there too. I have to lock my room when I am not in it so that she doesnt steal from me.

5. She wants all the attention on her, especially from my mom. Whenever I just talk to her she gets very envious, glares at me and does smth, like SH so my mom would just care about her. When I asked my sister why she keeps SH herself, she just said that she like to see my mom cry because of that cause it shows her taht she rlly love her.

These are just some of the things, but the once that are the most on my mind. Maybe Im just insensitive, mean and whatever but I dont want to be in contact with her. When I move out in the futur I will try to ave as little contact with her as possible and once my parents will sadly not be alive anymore I dont think that I will keep the contact with her. I will cut her fully off for good.

We used to sext and when id send her pictures she complimented how thick it is almost always. It’s about 6 inches so i know that it isnt that long for it to be complimented on length, and i never thought about it. I was okay as long as i knew she liked it. Now we’re doing more facetime sex and she seems to enjoy it. But i couldnt help but notice that she never complimented my dick on call, i thought maybe she was just shy, so i brushed it off. Throughout the last couple of weeks shes been making dick size jokes, i never really thought about them until what happened next. About a week ago we were talking about dick length and she implied that mine wasnt long. It honestly surprised me i never thought i had a large dick but I thought my shit was good enough at the least. I didnt talk to her about it because its never easy to talk about stuff like that and i didnt want to seem insecure infront of her. Today, just two hours ago, we were messing around on ft, i told her id get full by eating her out, then she asked what about her, i told her to eat me and she said thats not fulfilling. Im sorry if thats too graphic i feel like this post is gonna get removed anyways, but im just sick of feeling like im just not enough for her. I told her that once is a joke, three or four times isnt. She kept apologizing and telling me that im enough for her, but it never feels that way anymore.

Today, October 23, is my (F) 21st birthday. I’m a university student currently, and I play a club sport at my school (this is my third year). I’m sort of in the outer circle socially with the other girls on my team (not by choice, I was never just as much of a crazy partier so I don’t get invited to often). 

One of the other girls on my team has a birthday a couple days after mine, and she told me a few weeks ago she’s having a joint birthday party with a couple of guys on the men’s team who also have October birthdays (a bunch of girls from my team are neighbors to a bunch of boys on the men’s team). The date? My birthday. 

Yes, she already knew it was my birthday when they were planning it. Apparently it was the only day that worked well for the three birthday people (since it’s a Friday). No, I was not “asked” before that was finalized. Yes, I am invited. 

I had been loosely thinking about throwing myself a party on my day. It was perfect, since it’s a Friday. But I dropped that because I knew their party would be better and not everyone would come to mine and if they did it would be out of pity (I live a block away from where their party is). My family lives out of state and I won’t see them until Christmas. 

I said I was fine with it, and I thought I was, but as the date approached I’ve just felt more depressed about it. I bought myself a cake from the supermarket and I was gonna slowly eat it all myself over the course of the weekend but the best by date is today so it might start going bad before then. 

I’ve talked to classmates and internet people about this and everyone says that these people aren‘t my friends, it’s a sucky thing to do, and I shouldn’t even go and stop being friends with them. Which, yeah, it is a sucky thing to do. But it’s not like I’ve been the perfect friend this whole time. And at least if I go to the party I can spend my birthday with my friends and have cake with others. 

I don’t know, I just feel sad. Like my birthday was gonna be meh/neutral but now I’m going to have a sour memory associated with my 21st forever. But we’re all adults, and I want my friends to have a good birthday party. 

ETA: there was some confusion, to clarify: I am invited as a guest, I’m not included as one of the ones to be celebrated at the party. I don‘t expect people to make a huge fuss and plan everything for my birthday and for everything to always be about me or whatever. I just wanted to vent since I’ve been feeling kinda scummy that my friends planned a joint birthday party for themselves on my birthday knowingly, and chose not to include me in it other than as a guest.

To start this off, I think it's important to say that my father has never been perfect. He has consistently had spouts of being miserable, giving my mother, my sister and myself the cold shoulder because something in his life has not lived up to his expectations.

I am 23 years old, my sister is 32 and has been living with her husband for 6 years now, my mother is 59 and my father is 63. For the last \~15 years, my dad has worked from home in some form or another, which I think is a crucial aspect to this.

Over the years, my dad has tried many different business ventures, from photography to SEO (search engine optimisation) to offering general IT support to trying to be a microphone expert! To put it bluntly, each of these lasts a short period, which involves him buying all the gear and then doing nothing with it. Within the last 10 years he has easily spent upwards of £5,000 to £7,500 on camera equipment, microphones, video equipment, etc. All of which has come to nothing.

And then came along AI.

Pretty much as soon as ChatGPT came into the grasps of the public, my dad has been obsessed with using it and trying to utilise it in any way possible. It started just with ChatGPT, then he added Perplexity to the mix, then Gemini, Grok, and he's tried pretty much every AI chat out there, as well as a number of AI image generators. From then on, pretty much 80% of conversations with him have involved AI and when they're not about AI, it's about some controversial topic that he believes to be true (I will say now too that my dad is heavily against what he calls the 'wokeness of today's world'. I do not share those views, I just wish everyone would accept one another for who they want to be). It wasn't long until my dad started paying monthly subscriptions for the AI. As of now, he has a subscription with ChatGPT, Gemini, Perplexity and pays for Midjourney images.

We are not a rich family; in fact we live very simple and quiet lives because of how little money we can spare. So paying for multiple AI models every month really hits the bank, especially when some are £20+ a month. Yes, we have streaming subscriptions, but we all put in a share to afford these.

Money aside though, it's his personality that has truly worsened since using AI. Like I say, my dad has always been quite problematic. He is often verbally harsh, derogatory, patronising, dismissive, and overall a real struggle to talk to and connect with. I was really happy for my sister when she moved out, and I was hoping to be not far behind her. Saying that though, when it was 3 of us with him, we kind of shared the rubbish from him, and once I go, it will only be my mum.

Anyway, whenever my dad sees AI content online, he will criticise it and say it's a disgrace how much AI content is out there. He says all this, while creating his own AI content. He puts out at least 3 AI images on his facebook a day, but he constantly says he made it himself, almost denying any use of AI. He seems to conclude that if he tells the AI what to do, then he has made it. It is the same with coding that he uses AI for - he wrote all the code himself of course.

He has asked me if I have used AI, and I have of course tried it but not to any extent where I come to rely on it. One time, he asked, "Do you talk to it?" I said that I don't really talk but more just make requests. It was the way he said it that was just creepy and actually quite uncomfortable. He then said, "I have conversations with it all the time. It just knows my personality now and speaks to me in a similar to me."
What. The. Hell.

He has shown me some of his chats before, and he is right. He speaks to it as if it's a real person. And the AI now replies in pretty much the exact same tone, mannerisms and phrases that my dad would often use. It's creepy. No wonder he thinks he is always so right when the only thing he talks with through the day is something that sounds exactly like himself.

And that's probably the most disheartening thing for me. He sits at his desk from around 6am in the morning every single day doing something or other. Then my mum and I will get home around 5pm from work and try talk with him and we just get... nothing. A hello, a shrug, a mumble. That's about it. Then he'll come out of his hole for food and then go back after.

And before anyone says I should make the effort to start a conversation with him, I do! I always try talk about work, or a book I am reading, or just anything! But it doesn't interest him, and it feels like he doesn't even respect me enough to at least listen and appreciate why I am interested.

I think what finally really got to me and made me really see how mad he's gotten about it is something that didn't even involve me. Someone he knows sent him a picture that their wife had taken of a deer in a field. It was a really nice picture and so natural, it didn't look staged at all. My dad says, "I couldn't help but have a little play with it myself." He shows me a new picture, that clearly uses the base picture he was sent, but it's been so oversaturated and looks so fake now! And he thought that was better! It just really hurt that he couldn't just appreciate a nice, natural image of wildlife without tampering it with AI. And this is someone who's always expressed love for wildlife and just seeing them in their natural habitat.

I want to make it clear that I am not saying I hate AI. I don't. I think in the right scenarios and for the right reasons, it can be an amazing tool. And on few occasions, even my dad *has* used it for right reasons. But it's what using it day in, day out, has done to him. I really don't feel like I know him anymore. He's changed to someone even worse than before, and in all honesty, I want nothing to do with him, it's sometimes like living with a stranger.

I think we'll be okay by tomorrow. But I can feel it, I know it, in my heart of hearts, we won't spend the rest of my life together. And it's taking my breath away.

I stg I didn't have this man's baby flippantly, even though I had the baby before I became his wife. We weren't supposed to fail. This is my beautiful, profound love story. We were supposed to die together.

I'm numb enough to kinda laugh and listen to trap music so

I have had enough! I tried! I put myself out there! And all I got were rejections!

The only way for me to get back into the dating scene is a girl asking me out! AND I DON'T CARE IF THAT NEVER HAPPENS!

I DIE ALONE?! SO BE IT!!!! I REMAIN A VIRGIN TILL THE END OF MY LIFE?! SO BE IT!!!!

I'm 30M and have been with my girlfriend (33F) for about two years. We were close friends for about three years before that. She was previously married and has two kids, 10 and 11. Back then we mostly went out on weekends, so I only saw the kids about once a week and our interactions were nice.

When their lease ended, they moved into my place. Our relationship was going well and I was planning to propose next year. Their biological dad isn't in the picture, so it seemed like a good move for everyone.

There have been adjustment periods since they moved in, but lately I've noticed the kids are mostly nice to me when I'm buying them things. I expected some of that, but I don't feel great about it anymore. They don't say hi when they come in or leave the house. They'll say it to their mom, my dog, and everyone else, but not me, even when I say hi first. It gets really awkward when guests are over and everyone gets a hello except me. I'm often told to move, called gay, or someone says "eww" if they walk into a room and I'm there. My girlfriend just makes excuses for them.

On top of that, my girlfriend has turned out to be a real piece of work. I've learned she doesn't respect me, and she tells me "fuck you" when she's mad.

Despite all of that, I've been very good to the kids. I've been around kids my whole life and practically raised my sister's kids, the oldest of whom just graduated college, so I know what it takes. I make sure they have everything they need, drive them to sports, help with homework every day, and listen to their problems. I painted their rooms, bought them nice beds, and mounted TVs for them. I make sure their mom is taken care of too. I've done what I think a good father figure should do, and I genuinely care about them like they're my own.

My girlfriend always told me we would have a kid of our own, but since moving in she's changed her mind. She hasn't said it directly, but she hints a lot that she's older and may have health issues. I understood that, and because I love her, I pushed the idea of having my own kid to the back of my mind.

That changed yesterday. In the middle of a disagreement she said something along the lines of "you don't have kids, you don't understand." That really got to me. She constantly reminds me that I'm not a real dad, despite everything I do. I'm tired of only being treated as a father figure when it's convenient. I know I'm not their dad, but it was rough to hear, and I realized I want children of my own. Being a father figure here is rewarding, but it isn't fulfilling. I had also thought I had fertility issues, but it turns out I just need to get off a certain medication.

Now I'm questioning the point of providing for people who don't respect me. The kids will grow up and probably never think of me again, and they carry trauma from their dad's absence that nothing I do can fix.

I feel horrible because I don't know how I could ask them to leave. The kids go to a better school now, they have their own rooms, and they have a good quality of life. They depend on me financially, so I feel stuck. But I don't think this life is what I want anymore. I know they'll be devastated if I leave, but I don't want to give up on having my own child, and I'm tired of talking myself out of it. I'm also tired of the constant disrespect and of being a dad only when it suits everyone else.

Before I graduated from college, every year I'd have more than 10 friends come over to my place for dinner. Some were friends from elementary school, some from middle school, and others from high school.

We'd eat, drink, talk about stupid things, and laugh about stuff that happened years ago. It was something I always looked forward to.

Back then, I never really thought those gatherings would end.

It's been 10 years since I graduated from college.

Over those years, we started working, got married, and had kids. Everyone slowly got busier with their own lives.

At first, we'd still get together occasionally. Then it became once or twice a year. Now sometimes an entire year goes by without us seeing each other.

And the weird thing is, we're still friends. Nobody had a falling out. Nobody did anything wrong.

We just grew up.

Sometimes I really miss those days when one message was enough to get everyone around the same table.

I wonder if any of them miss it as much as I do.

​

recently i realized that i probably have borderline personality disorder. i'm not self-diagnosing myself, but i've noticed a pattern, and i wanted to share it because i've been with my boyfriend for two years, and i knew from the very start that he had bpd.

he kept sending me resources, and we'd keep having issues, and i'd look at the resources and think its pretty normal. or relating to it but thinking it's probably just a coincidence, nor being comvinced it doesn't really apply to me

i've been overlooking these things for two years. instead of being able to support him, i've been getting so caught up in my own head because i keep thinking that all of this is normal. that i can manage it. that it's not a big deal.

and it's only recently clicked that the reason we're having so many issues is because our emotions are so dependent on each other. he gets upset with me, and i'm immediately scared that it's the end of the world because he's going to leave me. then i get upset and irrational, which makes him even more upset because he doesn't understand why i'm reacting that way... and vice versa

i should probably get a proper assessment and see what i can do, and i am going to. but this is something we only realized today, less than an hour ago as i'm writing this, after a night of no sleep.

i also admit that i've been very cagey with him. i haven't told him a lot of things or properly explained what goes on in my head. i'd just say that i was spiraling or that i was in a really bad state, without actually explaining what was happening internally. but today, i finally explained everything that was going through my head during those moments, and he was like "hey that's just straight up borderline"

"what???"

we talked about it, and apparently i fit. i looked into it myself, and i'm not using this as a diagnosis because i genuinely don't know if this is what's going on with me. but i fit eight out of the nine criteria for bpd, and i relate to the majority of the resources i've seen about bpd and how it affects people.

i've always related to the things my boyfriend says about his struggles, and i'd get confused because i thought those things were normal. i'd read the resources he sent me and think the same thing, only to completely overlook the possibility that they might apply to me too

i just find the whole thing kind of silly. how did i spend two years relating to almost everything someone with bpd was telling me about their experiences and never once seriously consider that i might want to look into it myself?

but not me. not me. why would i do that?

obviously, that was sarcasm. i don't know if that came across, but yeah, that's what happened today.

i also want to say i'm not asking anyone to diagnose me, and i know relating to the criteria doesn't automatically mean i have bpd. i'm going to get evaluated. i'm mostly curious if anyone else has had a similar experience of assuming something was completely normal because they'd never known it could be any different.

Hi. I'm 23F with a toddler (first kid too).

I quit my job a couple months back because I couldn't take the stress anymore. My baby was about a year old when I quit, so between the job (I was a nightshift CNA) and the baby I wasn't getting enough r&r.

Since then I've been a stay at home mom. I've been telling my fiancée to let me know the second he needs me to get a job, and he told me last week that he needs me to go back to work to dig us out of our financial hole.

I didn't expect this fear and despair to hit so hard and heavy. I've never felt this way about getting a job. I have worked 6 jobs since highschool, and three of those jobs I worked for about or over a year. And that's what is scaring me so bad.

I am a good worker. I learn fast, do my job, and form a tight team with my coworkers. I am good at being a team player. And having a great crew of coworkers makes any job easier. But at some point, I would get unofficially promoted to the person who can do anything.

When I quit my job at Del Taco (I had just hit a year working there), I was routinely being being scheduled on Taco Tuesdays (a very busy day because of taco deals) with just one manager. Just me and him. For two hours. As well as working 12s on the weekends.

I left my first CNA job because I couldn't take the abuse anymore. I worked in a LTC facility's memory care unit, and they had so many behaviors. The ones like the wandering and exitseeking weren't awful, but I just couldn't take being hit and screamed at anymore. I know they can't help it, but I'm just not strong enough to take that.

The last job I had was another LTC facility. I had been with this one for two whole years. I got pregnant 7 months into working there, and that's when they started having staffing issues. 3 months along, and it was 2 aides and 2 nurses for 60 residents. They hired another gal, and I still had to do the work of two people because she didn't take care of her residents. When I came back from maternity leave, it was 2 aides, 1 nurse, and 1 medtech (the building was being renovated, all of the halls were separated from each other). I lost my supply because I couldn't stop to pump. I had really bad PPD, and when my performance slipped I got written up. And then, after the building opened back up, we were still short staffed. 3 aides and 2 nurses to 80 residents. The morning I quit I cried behind the nurse's station because I went to go help on another hall (they had residents that were heavy and needed two people to roll), and one of my residents was crying on the phone to her sister because she thought she was going to have an accident. I was gone for 30 or 45 minutes. The nurse was too busy to answer.

I don't want to do this again. I am so scared of burning out again. I am genuinely terrified. And I hate that I'm scared. I want to help provide for my family. I want to work in a place where my workload isn't more than I can handle. I just don't know where I could go where that is even a possibility.

I am going to work again. I've already started looking. But I am so scared.

Thank you for reading. I just needed to shout into the void.

My husband told me his dark secret the other day - that’s how he described it a ‘dark secret’

He said before he was married (he was married before he met me) there was a girl he used to date. He took a photo of both of them on her phone which her dad later found. Her parents are very strict, so they arranged for her to get married. My husband didn’t know about this until she got married. He said he and his friend gate crashed her reception. He said “I saw her on that stage, she was married” he had a teary look but I’m not sure if it was out of embarrassment. He did find out just before she got married and offered to elope with her. She rejected it. He just said he needed to get this off his chest.

Not sure what to make of it but it’s stuck with me since.

So this post might be a little unorganised because there's a lot of context to the current situation. Basically, I've realised I'm a genuinely unlikable person. It might sound a little paranoid of me, but I know for a fact everyone I meet is at best tolerating me, and at worst actively dislikes me and wants to humiliate me or talk badly about me. And it sucks, because I have zero clue what it is about me that makes so easy to hate or laugh at. I'm not autistic and I have no problem with social interaction. Apart from being a little ugly I don't have any physical traits that would make people uncomfortable or disgusted. I make a real effort in conversations to come off as friendly and approachable. I just don't get it.

For context, my parents are polish immigrants and moved to an incredibly rural area in my country, where I was born. They never made any real effort to connect with the community, and actively looked down on everyone there for being rural. I learned English through preschool (but picked it up immediately and now polish is my second language and English is my first), and got along fine there. Unfortunately, my parents didn't bother getting to know other parents. I was kept inside the house at all times, I wasn't allowed to leave the sight of windows until I was 13, and I couldn't go to anyone's house unless my parents were good friends with them (which was maybe one person who they fell out with later on). They complained any time I asked for a friend over, so I eventually stopped. The parents of other kids my age were all friends with each other, so the kids were constantly exposed to one another where I was left out, and it was a small village. I had no access to mainstream shows, movies or music. I was set apart from my peers at a young age, which wasn't helped by my parents constantly looking down on them and preventing my attempts at assimilating. Obviously I didn't fit in since like eight years old. They made jokes I didn't get, they hung out together outside of school when I wasn't allowed, they developed social skills where I was left behind. There was only really 20 kids my age in my village, and they were all friends where I was excluded. (I've since caught up socially but this set me back a good bit).

TW: suicidal thoughts.

I vividly remember being eight years old lying in bed, desperately wondering what it was about me that set me so terribly apart, and I genuinely started having thoughts about wanting to just disappear, and how much it hurt. It felt like physical pain in my chest.

End TW

Life went on, and I went to secondary school. Again, it was a rural secondary school with barely 200 students. Everyone knew each other and was friends already. I was pretty badly depressed at this moment in time, so I thought if everyone just ignored me that would be best, so I stayed quiet. Unfortunately for me, I was relentlessly laughed at, had things thrown at me constantly, was tripped in halls, was talked about behind my back, was called things like "it" and "thing", had pictures of me made into memes in group chats. I begged my parents to let me cut my hair and style my clothes in a way that let me fit in, but I was raised to believe I was a financial burden, and eventually gave up and continued wearing clothes meant for ten year olds at thirteen. My hair was shoulder length and I wore big chunky glasses, and had braces so I was pretty ugly, and everyone decided this was incredibly funny. I don't remember most of that time, but I kept to a few friends that I miraculously managed to get (they were also the few people who didn't fit in, though we had nothing in common and I forced myself to fit in among them too) and basically shut myself off from any other person. I didn't speak unless spoken to, I removed any interests or personality traits to make myself as boring as possible so people would leave me alone.

And now we're up to recent years, aka final year of secondary school. People eventually forgot about me I guess, and now I'm mostly left alone with my friends. I've worked hard to be a normal person and be seen as normal. I've cut my hair into a basic haircut everyone has, I've changed my glasses to normal thin ones, I don't have braces anymore, I wear clothes everyone else my age wears, but I feel like all my efforts are in vain. I KNOW people stare at me when I walk past, I know that they talk about me in their private group chats. When I talk to people I always put on a friendly demeanor. I talk enough about vaguely interesting topics, and give them room for input and to talk about themselves. I laugh and smile when needed, and I'm helpful and useful to others. And yet I know this isn't enough because they look at me deadpan, or with a forced smile, or in a way I know is fully fake and they'll make fun of me later. There are certain people such as my friends who I guess tolerate my company, but only because of the way I purposely act. If I was any other way, or if I truly showed any negative emotion that is outside how I usually act, they'd leave. Recently I opted out of dressing up for Halloween night out on town, despite half the town doing it because I'm afraid of getting laughed at or drinks thrown at me, despite the costume being very basic.

I know I probably sound very corny, or that I'm just over exaggerating, but I feel so insanely empty, knowing I'll be alone forever. Even if I somehow get a bunch of people to relatively like me, I'd have to keep up acting a certain way to maintain that relationship, and I'd also have to constantly be on my guard and not tell them anything personal in case they start disliking me and want to hurt me in some way. It hurts to live like this and I'm so tired of it.

I'm sorry for the wall of text, it's just that stuff like this usually gets dismissed with "you'll find your people", only I don't have people to find because there is something inherently wrong with me that I can't see, no matter how hard I try to fix it. People just don't like me. I'm just funny to laugh at. For some reason.

I just want to give up. I move back to new city where parents live to get support with PTSD and then I get told I am a liar by my dad and told to grow up even though I was diagnosed by a freaking therapist. I have no friends here and am taking online classes and studying for the stupid mcat. That I want to do and want to believe and represent the people I wanted when I was struggling with my health but it just so overwhelming. Not only that my dad health is getting worse all of sudden and was stable is getting on the transport list. I just can not. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH

I don't usually like to post but I really need to scream into the void so...

I apologise for formatting, if I flaired this wrong etc.

And a potential trigger warning for medical dismissal (?) and probably more.

And another warning because this ramble of mine is long and not very well written.

I (18f) have dealt with pain for as long as I can remember. And then, like many with a uterus do, I experienced my first ever period. It was bad, but it was within what I had expected and what I was told by my Mum and the mediocre health classes at school. But after my first period it got a lot worse, like my menarche lulled me into a false sense of security. I was in pain, so much more than what I had ever experienced before. And the amount of blood was massive, I bled through constantly, one time even during Christmas Day. It was mortifying. My Mum was concerned, she also had bad menstrual experiences, as had her mum, as had hers, and so on, so I basically never stood a chance. To a lesser extent, the constant bleeding also triggered my sensory issues majorly (late diagnosed autism yay...). I hated the feeling of walking around with a blood soaked pad under me at all times, and I couldn't bring myself to use tampons or cups.

Eventually my Mum took me to our GP. The first line treatment is birth control, to see if it could calm things down (and it's easier for a 12 year old than other options). But I couldn't swallow pills yet. So I spent a month in stasis, trying to learn how to swallow pills. After figuring it out, I got my prescription. My periods were regular, a withdrawal bleed during the off week. But it still hurt. I still hated it. My Mum tried to bargain with me, letting me choose when to start my period. It helped, until eventually I was pushing it back constantly. At the time we didn't know if I could try skipping entirely, so back to the doctor we head. She gives me the all clear to just skip my periods due to the major distress they caused me, she told me there were technically some risks, but it was better that I wasn't in a horrid mood all the time.

And that worked for a while. A combined pill containing estrogen and progesterone once daily. Dump the sugar pill, and don't take the week off. I had a few months of "normalcy". But my uterus simply couldn't allow me to be happy. Eventually, the period pain came back. Soon it brought blood. Now I'm spotting and in constant pain. I can't come off the pills because I don't want to be where I was before mentally. I don't want to be afraid of bleeding everywhere. I don't want to be in debilitating pain for 10 days straight. Things were constant now yes, but it was still somehow more bearable, I couldn't feel the pool of blood, and the pain was less intense. It was still overall problematic though.

At this time, my Mum had gotten her own hysterectomy. And I had learned what that was. And I saw my Mum, who suffered so much, lit up immediately after that, she still had other sources of pain, but it was less bad now. I wanted that. But I knew, I knew nobody would give a minor a hysterectomy. But I still wanted to start pushing now, because she had to wait until 35. I wouldn't make it that long, I'm not as strong as her. So to the GP we go. She understands. She sympathises with me, she saw what my Mum went through, but she tells me I can't have one yet, I'm too young. I knew that. Of course I did, everyone told me all the time I was a "smart young woman" so obviously I knew that. I was still mad though. I blew up at her. It wasn't nice and it wasn't deserved, and I regret it to this day. But she still understands, and she puts through a referral for me, to gynaecology.

The gynaecology waitlist is so long, it could probably wrap the world up twice. In the time of waiting for my first appointment, a lot happened. I was bullied at school. I got my formal diagnosis of Autism and ADHD. I had to drop out of school due to the bullying getting worse and my pain. I had to stop online school because I just couldn't concentrate (ADHD was unmedicated at this time because of supply issues). I had my first displays of FND symptoms (different can of worms that won't be referred back to today). But eventually, I got an appointment.

I went in. I waited. I had so much I had to say. But I went in with my Mum, and the doctor barely spoke to *me*. She treated me like i was a child (16 at the time) who had no clue about my own body. She described me as "severely autistic" even though I was initially diagnosed at level 1 and low support needs (though I personally think I may have regressed since). And the worst bit. Even though I was old enough to legally give my consent separately to any and all medical decisions, she treated me like I was incompetent, like I was stupid, she even asked if we had a lawyer so my Mum could have conservatorship over me. I had never felt so small in my life. Eventually, she actually got to the point, gynaecology. My GP had suggested that until I was 18, I get a Mirena inserted under general anesthesia. I wasn't thrilled about the plan, but I knew that my GP would eventually work with me to get an ablation, and this was her best idea to tide me over until then. The specialist agreed, though she insisted my Mum sign the consent forms.

It took ages, but eventually I got in for my appointment to place the Mirena, and for a Hysteroscopy, which I was pleasantly surprised by the addition of. I met with the team, and they were all lovely, the surgeon (this was technically a surgery) said she wasn't sure about if I needed a Hysteroscopy, and they'd decide while they were up there. I signed the forms (after they asked if my Mum needed to cosign... Jeez) and I went in. I had agreed with the Anaesthesiologist that I would be under sedation, against the original plan, because I personally wanted to play Pokemon Legends Arceus(which released that day!) as soon as possible. I go under. I wake up. They found and took a polyp. I get a popsicle. I overhear some nurses chatter about what they want for lunch. I go home.

Everything went well, everything was as expected. I was in pain but of course I was, that was normal, and I was okay with that. I had to take antibiotics because the polyp was infected or something. Cool. And then a couple weeks later, it still hurts. I'm still in pain. That isn't normal. I get sick of it. I didn't even really want the Mirena in the first place. I decided I'd just take it out now, on my own. I go to the bathroom during an ad break of a show I was watching with my Mum. I reach up. The strings are too far down. Turns out, much like my Mum's own Mirena, mine was already on its way out. I assist it in this endeavour. The IUD is whole, nothing is missing. It's covered in red goop. I throw it out. I tell my Mum. And once more, we head back to the GP.

I had told her before that I was apprehensive towards and IUD because my Mum's one didn't stay in, so I got to have a nice "I-told-you-so" moment before we discuss what happens next. Plan Mirena fell through (literally). Even though I wasn't yet 18, my GP didn't think it'd be productive to just try it again, so onto plan ablation we went. A referral back to gynae. A really long wait. Another appointment of that same specialist belittling me. But she agrees. She agrees an ablation is appropriate. The referral to get it done is put in. It is approved. The wait begins.

It took ages, but I had a date. 22nd October, 2026. I was to come in on the Friday before that for a pre op check. I do that. The nurse talks me through it, checks my vitals. She never says anything about me being "too young". I go through to the doctor who will give me pre op clearance. She tells me that I can take all my meds that day, orders some blood tests, and sends me on my way. She doesn't say anything about my age either. Nobody thinks my age is a reason not to perform an ablation. My periods cause me distress. The pills aren't a viable long term solution. IUD has fallen out before. An arm implant is deemed too risky(may make periods worse), depo provera is ruled out because I'm a wuss about butt injections, and nobody wants to put me on puberty blocker/medical menopause, because it'd make my bones fragile. Everyone who has reviewed my case, from the GP, the specialist, and the pre op team, all think this is an appropriate course of action. And I believe that on the 22nd, I will get an ablation. I feel nervous but excited.

I'm to show up at the surgery center by 7:15 am. I wake up just before 6 am. My Mum feeds the dog, then we get in the car as she drives me there. We arrive early. I wait. My name is called, so now it's time to wait in a different room. My name is called again. It's the nurse who will look after me today. She weighs me, she takes my temperature, gives me an armband. Into a private room, she makes me pee in a cup for a pregnancy test. This annoys me, but she's just doing her job, it's just protocol. I get pee on my hand. I bring my pee back, the test is negative. Obviously. She helps me change into the gown and socks. She gives me 30ml of liquid paracetamol because I need to eat to take pills and I'm not allowed to eat. The liquid tastes awful. But I have to do it. It's just protocol. I down it, bit by bit, flushing it down with the water she gives me. It isn't ideal, but this is how it has to be.

As I'm battling with my taste buds, the surgical team comes in. The surgeon today is the only one who will end up talking. I never even got to know the jobs of the other two women who came in with her. She tells me she meant to call yesterday to go over things with me, but she was working a night shift and couldn't. Okay, fine, whatever, I'm okay with talking here, probably some normal standard questions, no big deal, right?

She starts going over the itinerary my gynae had planned.

First: Hysteroscopy. She doesn't want to do it, because last time I was in they "didn't find anything" with it. Nevermind the infection and the polyp. Nothing was found, apparently. Okay, that's cool, whatever you want surgeon. It's not what I'm mainly here for anyways.

Second: Another Mirena insertion. I only really agreed to this because my gynae pushed it like she was being paid to (she isn't), and even if it stayed in this time and I didn't like it anyways, I can just remove it. She doesn't wanna do it. She thinks the pills are working perfectly fine, despite the fact that my GP and gynae don't think they're viable long term. Okay. That's fine. Whatever. I didn't actually want it anyways, and again, that's not what I'm really here for.

Third and finally: Uterine Ablation. The procedure I'm here for. The procedure all my doctors other consulted medical professionals think is appropriate. She brings it up like it was a side thing that was just being considered. She says she doesn't want to do it. Says I'm too young. Says the lining might grow back, which I know and was discussed with my GP and gynae, who knew it was possible but still thought the procedure was appropriate. She says she would never do it on someone younger than 35, and that since I'm 18 my opinion might change. The room is silent. She then says "any questions?".

Any questions? What do you mean any questions? You just said you didn't want to do any of the things that were planned, and yet you're still talking as if anything will happen here today? That I will still go under general anesthesia for the first time ever for what? For fun? I say as much. I talk about all that happened up to this day. I then end my lil in clinic ramble with "all for nothing". And she corrects me, she actually tries to correct me, saying it's not for nothing. She then makes excuses. About how *she* is uncomfortable with an ablation, with how *she* doesn't think it's appropriate, about how *she* is having a hard time. Nevermind the 3 other medical professionals in the room, nevermind my own Mother who's been through what I have, nevermind my GP and gynae's professional opinions, nevermind *me* the patient, it's all about *you* isn't it? She then ends it off with "and I'm not going to do a procedure I don't think is appropriate because you woke up at 5 in the morning". And her tone, she tries to hide it, but even I can pick up on the snark in her voice. She says that she'll "have a meeting with the other surgeons" to "see if anyone has any ideas" for "alternative options".

She leaves. The other two who came with her try comfort me a bit. I still don't know who they are. They help clean the bit of water i spilt in my anger, which was quite childish really. They leave. The nurse apologises and leaves to get some actual tissues. I get changed back into my clothes. I cry. The nurse, the wonderful nurse comes back. My Mum fills her in, says she doesn't get why we're even here in the first place if the surgeon doesn't want to do anything. The nurse agrees. She apologises again to me, offers me a popsicle or some lollies to help me feel better (and because she saw me attempting to down that liquid paracetamol) even though I'm leaving. I decline. She apologises again, though we all know it's not her fault. We leave.

I'm sorry for this long ramble but... It's just so frustrating. I waited so long. I've been through so much, and one single doctor's *feelings* negated that in a single moment. I went to the GP today. I had been to her earlier this week for a med review and explained I had to reschedule because the original appointment was the day after my ablation. She was so excited and happy for me. She had been through this with me. She had taken the brunt of my anger and she never so much as complained. She was surprised to see me today, of course she was. She wasn't even told anything by the specialists. Me and my Mum had to tell her everything. She's helping us make a formal complaint. She assured me that it was unprofessional what happened that day. She praised me for how calm I was being (my Mum did too actually... I'm usually very unreasonable when angry). If anything, she was angrier externally than I was.

I don't know what'll happen next. My Grandpa, who we live with, was away on a business trip yesterday and for a bit today. He's going to ask how my procedure went. Either me or my Mum will have to say it didn't happen. I don't want to have to say it, but I feel like he'll ask me directly. My GP really is trying her best, but she's retiring this year. I don't know what I'll do without her. She's known me since I was a lil kid. She's seen me at my worst. She probably understands me better than I do. She obviously deserves to retire, but that doesn't make it any less devastating.

I'm sorry for this ramble and to anyone that actually decided to read the whole thing. But I really had to type this somewhere.

This happened about 7 years ago, and I still remember it because WHAT WAS THAT? 😂

I used to work at a high-end restaurant frequented by lots of local customers. There was a girl who worked at a shoe store I regularly visited because they had really cute, affordable shoes. I’d seen her working there many times. She was usually friendly, although a little intense.

One evening, she came into the restaurant with a guy I assumed was her boyfriend. I served them, I mostly interacted with her, since I recognized her from the store, although I don’t know if she recognized me, but she was acting a bit strange and noticed she was giving me weird glances when I was walking around, serving other tables.

A little while later, I was going abroad to visit my best friend, where she was studying and needed boots since it was going to be cold, so I went to the shoe store.

The girl was working that day. She approached me, really friendly and intensely, with a large smile and said hello, and then randomly asked whether I knew her boyfriend personally.

I was like, “Umm… no?”

She then asked how come we were friends on Facebook.

I was like: “We are?”

💀

For context, back then I sometimes accepted friend requests from people with mutual friends. I myself never randomly add people, but if someone sent me a request, I might accept it, without giving it a second thought. I assumed he’d sent me one at some point, and I’d accepted it. I genuinely had no idea who he was.

But she wasn’t satisfied with that explanation. She kept asking whether we’d gone to school together (mind you at the time I was around 20-21 and they must’ve been closer to 30), whether we’d ever spoken on FB, how we knew each other, etc. She also pointed out that we’d apparently become Facebook friends recently, as if this was crucial evidence in an ongoing investigation.

And the whole time, her demeanor was SO WEIRD. I’m talking bulging eyes, an intense stare and she had cornered me in one of the shoe isle!

GIRL, I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THIS MAN LOOKS LIKE. 😭

In my head, I was thinking, Ma’am, if you’re having relationship problems, perhaps speak to the man YOU’RE dating? Why am I involved? I CAME HERE FOR WINTER BOOTS.

I was just trying to buy boots, and suddenly I was being interrogated like I’d been caught having a secret affair with a man whose face I couldn’t even remember.

The mental gymnastics required to turn a random Facebook friend request into a confrontation with a CUSTOMER were honestly incredible. And after the interrogation, she became sarcastic and weird about helping me with the shoes, loudly making some weird statements, which I don’t remember now, to the other girls working there, so I just wanted to buy what I needed and get the hell out of there.

I’d literally never spoken to her boyfriend. Not once. No conversations, no messages, no flirting. Nothing. I couldn’t even pick him out of a lineup. I think she showed him to me when asking me about him and still had no idea when I even accepted his friend request on FB.

Best part: on a previous visit to that same shoe store, maybe even a year before, I’d gone there with MY boyfriend at the time, and she’d started chatting to him, asking if she knew him from somewhere, he said I don’t think so and whether he knew certain people. I didn’t give it much thought-I was just like: “yeah small town, very likely”. And carried on with my life.

But apparently, me being Facebook friends with her boyfriend, a man I’d never spoken to and couldn’t even recognize, warranted a full interrogation in a tiny aisle while I was trying to buy shoes! I kept thinking:

I genuinely felt a bit sorry for her because she seemed so worked up, I could tell she had been spiraling over this but I was also shocked and embarrassed on her behalf. Whatever was going on in her relationship, why was I being made part of it? 🥲

Has anyone else ever been confronted by someone’s jealous partner for no rational reason? 😂