Tren hard anavar give up

We may be anonymous strangers on the internet, but we have one thing in common. We may be a world apart, but we're here together!
Welcome to the 24 hour pledge!
I'm pledging myself to not drinking today, and invite you to do the same.
Maybe you're new to /stopdrinking and have a hard time deciding what to do next. Maybe you're like me and feel you need a daily commitment or maybe you've been sober for a long time and want to inspire others.
It doesn't matter if you're still hung over from a three day bender or been sober for years, if you just woke up or have already completed a sober day. For the next 24 hours, lets not drink alcohol!
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This pledge is a statement of intent. Today we don't set out trying not to drink, we make a conscious decision not to drink. It sounds simple, but all of us know it can be hard and sometimes impossible. The group can support and inspire us, yet only one person can decide if we drink today. Give that person the right mindset!
What happens if we can't keep to our pledge? We give up or try again. And since we're here in /stopdrinking, we're not ready to give up.
What this is: A simple thread where we commit to not drinking alcohol for the next 24 hours, posting to show others that they're not alone and making a pledge to ourselves. Anybody can join and participate at any time, you do not have to be a regular at /stopdrinking or have followed the pledges from the beginning.
What this isn't: A good place for a detailed introduction of yourself, directly seek advice or share lengthy stories. You'll get a more personal response in your own thread.
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This post goes up at:
- US - Night/Early Morning
- Europe - Morning
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A link to the current Daily Check-In post can always be found near the top of the sidebar.
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Happy Saturday! I hope everyone has had a good week!
I’ve had such a great time hosting this week, I hope you enjoyed it as well! I highly recommend hosting. If you have 30+ days sober and you’d like to host the DCI, reach out to SaintHomer and he’ll get you set up!
“Many times when you criticize or judge yourself, you feel isolated. It seems as though you are the only one in the world who has that particular flaw. And yet, we are all imperfect. We all suffer. And so we are all connected by our shared humanity …. The next time you are looking in the mirror and not liking what you see, remember that you are an integral part of a flawed, wonderful, wounded, miraculous human tribe.” – Bobbi Emel
Thank you everyone so much for making this sub such a great place! Have a wonderful weekend!
IWNDWYT lovely people of SD!

YES! just like in movies (one day earlier,i had a dream that he will lift me up in his arms). our college ended and we were walking on the road. my stupid chappal broke,he saw it. then he said " don't worry,i will lift you up". i said "stop joking dude,i will just walk barefoot".he said "no, i will lift u up".i thought he was joking then i said yes,lift me if u have guts. he said "let's make ur dream into reality". i genuinely thought that he was joking because who the fuck lifts up a person in the middle of the road. then he lifted me up,meri fatt gayi,i was blushing too hard.mera dhyaan nahi gaya ki logo ne dekhe ki nahi because i was too busy and lost in his eyes.meri fatt gayi then i said "chodh de,please warna pitai hojayegi apni".he really converted my dream into a reality.from that day,i get fucking scared to say him something that i want because he will really give me that thing that i want. also once,he travelled 30 kms from cycle just to meet me and just because he knew that i was getting bored because i arrived very early to submit my practicals.

I 21 F started a dating this guy 21 M, which lasted a year. I’m going to make this short because there are a lot of details. Our relationship screamed bf/gf, but we knew we weren’t ready for a serious commit to each other. We laid out ground rules one of which being “you can’t be intimate with someone else. If you are you have to let the other person know”. I created this rule to obviously protect myself from possible STDs. The beginning was the best (I guess the honeymoon stage). At this point we only knew each other for 2 weeks, but we were so close. He needed a place to stay before his new lease started, so I offered he could stay with me. So he did for about 2 weeks.
One night, my friend was having a birthday party. There I ran into one of my friends and she told me she hooked up with him a couple of times, while him and I were still together. One of those times being on my birthday, another was while he stayed with me for a couple of weeks. He’s the one that asked to be exclusive but still continued to flirt and hook up with other girls.
Another terrible thing he did was not caring when I was deleting our fetus. Yea he took me to the doctor appointments, but he left as soon as my pain from the pills started. He told me he would call to check up on me after, but he did not. The next day he apologized for not checking up on me. As he took an edible and knocked out. Then went to a party, while I was struck dealing with the aftermath of the procedure. He got me pregnant a 2nd time and didn’t even help to pay for deleting the fetus.
There’s more but you get the point. Over the span of our relationship I just got sadder and sadder. I had to make the final decision to end our relationship because of the toll it took on me. Being around him hurt but learning to be without him hurt even more. After things ended I almost didn’t recognize myself. I lost 20lbs, I started therapy, and started seeing a psychiatrist. Anytime I saw him on at school, I would have panic attacks.
We don’t communicate and I don’t care for a response, but I just wanted to give myself closure. It’s not fair that he’s able to go off and not suffer the consequences of our actions, but I do. It’s not fair that he got to speak how he felt about us, but blocked me before I even got the chance. I feel like if I tell him how I felt, I can start my healing process.
Should I write him a letter?

Howdy.
I was wondering if young people 18-25 living in the Bay Area that suffer from chronic illness/Lyme would want to be in contact. I feel like I can't relate to anyone. My parents are supportive but they really can't comprehend my reality. I think that's a common thing we all share. Some of the feelings and discomfort I get are so specific and visceral or just weird that you can't understand it without going through it. I feel like ultimately people just perceive my troubles as "oh he has headaches" just because I can joke around and am not bedbound. I have more neurological symptoms- and dont have a lot of the classic Lyme symptoms, so I even feel like a lot of the time I don't relate to a lot of Lyme stories. It's hard and I have trouble feeling valid with my symptoms.
I was hoping to be able to converse with someone locally around my age, but really I just want to be able to relate to someone and know they have the capacity to understand me. I'd prefer it to be local, but really anyone who has chronic issues, attributed to Lyme, who is around 20 years old, please hit me up. I feel like therapy and stuff is only a means to an end, I think we really just need empathy and deep understanding and that requires a perception that only encompassing illness can provide.

Seeing Seng diving into the Sea of Time made me think of this poem:
Cambridge
By William Wordsworth (1770–1850) From “The Prelude”
It was a dreary morning when the wheels Rolled over a wide plain o’erhung with clouds,
And nothing cheered our way till first we saw
The long-roofed chapel of King’s College lift
Turrets and pinnacles in answering files,
Extended high above a dusky grove.
Advancing, we espied upon the road
A student clothed in gown and tasselled cap,
Striding along as if o’ertasked by Time,
Or covetous of exercise and air;
He passed,—nor was I master of my eyes
Till he was left an arrow’s flight behind.
As near and nearer to the spot we drew,
It seemed to suck us in with an eddy’s force.
Onward we drove beneath the castle; caught,
While crossing Magdalene Bridge, a glimpse of Cam;
And at the Hoop alighted, famous inn.
The Evangelist St. John my patron was:
Three Gothic courts are his, and in the first
Was my abiding-place, a nook obscure;
Right underneath, the college kitchens made
A humming sound less tunable than bees,
But hardly less industrious; with shrill notes
Of sharp command and scolding intermixed.
Near me hung Trinity’s loquacious clock,
Who never let the quarters, night or day,
Slip by him unproclaimed, and told the hours
Twice over with a male and female voice.
Her pealing organ was my neighbor too;
And from my pillow, looking forth by light
Of moon or favoring stars, I could behold
The antechapel where the statue stood
Of Newton, with his prism and silent face,
The marble index of a mind forever
Voyaging through strange seas of thought, alone.
All winter long, whenever free to choose,
Did I by night frequent the college groves
And tributary walks; the last, and oft
The only one, who had been lingering there
Through hours of silence, till the porter’s bell,
A punctual follower on the stroke of nine,
Rang, with its blunt, unceremonious voice,
Inexorable summons! Lofty elms,
Inviting shades of opportune recess,
Bestowed composure on a neighborhood
Unpeaceful in itself. A single tree,
With sinuous trunk, boughs exquisitely wreathed,
Grew there; an ash which winter for himself
Decked as in pride, and with outlandish grace:
Up from the ground, and almost to the top,
The trunk and every master branch were green
With clustering ivy, and the lightsome twigs
And outer spray profusely tipped with seeds
That hung in yellow tassels, while the air
Stirred them, not voiceless. Often have I stood
Foot-bound, uplooking at this lovely tree
Beneath a frosty moon. The hemisphere
Of magic fiction verse of mine perchance
May never tread; but scarcely Spenser’s self
Could have more tranquil visions in his youth,
Or could more bright appearance create
Of human forms with superhuman powers,
Than I beheld, loitering on calm, clear nights,
Alone, beneath this fairy work of earth

Been trying to stand up for myself at work but my delivery kind of sucks. I said I felt like my time wasn't valued because I'm like pressured into/expected to work regularly 30min to 2 hours past my scheduled shift because management sucks basically. It's also extremely busy so it's difficult for 2 people to finish stuff but it's a 24 hour place.
Anyway I have been making a point to leave more on time (30 min here and there-- fine w.e, 5 min? Not a big deal what-so-ever). We don't get breaks so it's like an upstream battle to get out and take a smoke break. They aren't mandated in my state and the company takes advantage of that
Today the people who came in to switch shifts, the manager I had been working with all day, and an overnight associate like ganged up on me making passive aggressive comments and like speaking in code. They're really young and like I feel like I shouldn't take it personally but things went really well today. Until the last hour. And I was floored. And ik I can be a pain in the ass. And ik they all work there too. Idk why they don't take a harder stance on their needs but realistically that's not my problem
I feel guilty because the issue is not my coworkers (no breaks, too busy, short staffed, work not allowed to change from one shift to the next) that's all corporate, and I say that out loud, and I recognize that and I generally like(d) my coworkers.
But holy shit the way they behaved tonight was insane. Like. I was so hurt. I'm wondering if I came off too aggressive by wanting to like work my scheduled freaking shifts? I hate being there, the work isn't awfully hard, it is repetitive. The constant sounds and shitty lighting and constant stream of humans is hard on me. I just want to leave when im scheduled to leave. Why is that a point of ridecule?
I felt abused ngl. Or at least it was extremely triggering of past abuses. I'm not trying to be dramatic. I'm jist all wrapped up in it as it took me off guard. Like really off guard. I don't understand
Yes I've been applying to other jobs the past few weeks. It took about a month to find this one so I'm not like hopeless. I live with family again now which is embarrassing but my mh sucks ass, so they'd be disappointed but I think they'd understand if I cracked and left before setting something else up, but that's not the goal by any means.
Idk my brain is scrambley from emotions so I'm kind of going off onto weird thought branches. Thanks for reading thus far.
I hope everyone else is doing okay..

On and off Wellbutrin every few years. It gets me off the couch and helps me “fix” myself and pull my life together. I stay on for a year then as soon as I get off I reverse all the great changes I made over the last year and get back on the couch. Most recently I made great strides in my career and family. Within 6 months I simply quit my job and decided to stay home with my baby. That got hard so I moved cross country to be closer to toxic family members, now my husband is miserable too. Am I just being hard on myself? If I just stayed on it we would be in a great city with great friends and amenities in a nice house. We really downgraded just on a whim over 3-4 weeks I decided to put our house up for sale and move back to our small town. No one is happy. Maybe the baby is. I think it’s time to go back on, but I know I’m just going to destroy all the great changes I make. I feel so hopeless. Does that mean Wellbutrin isn’t a good fit?

Until a few years ago, I worked as a live in nanny for rich families and I noticed something they all had in common: they barely spent time with their kids. A lot of the moms were just stay at home moms, spending time just working out, watching TV, going for walks or shopping and would never take the kids with them. Same for the dads whenever they had free time they would be working out or playing golf or just in the room with locked doors so kids wouldn't bother them. I've always wondered why, I don't mean to say that all rich people are like that but the majority of them that I worked for were like that. I get it taking care of kids is hard but there is nothing better as a parent than spending time with them and being part of their life. What do you guys think is the reason why most rich people don't spend much time with their kids?
The few things the families I worked for used to do with the kids were school pick ups, sometimes they would take them to sports, breakfast at the diner of lunch in a restaurant and then back with the nanny as soon as they got back home.

I'm a director who has spent the past 2 years writing a slew of ideas that I can't get myself to greenlight. It's been very difficult to read my own stuff and not hate it, which has led me to want to pause and seek out some other writers in the hopes that a collaboration might help get the ball rolling again. My goal with this post is to seek out writers who may have work they are dying to have made but don't have the resources. During my time in which I've been attempting to write, I've actually gained a lot of experience directing a variety of different projects. Primarily commercial and branded doc work, but with music videos and one experimental short film. The last project I worked on was a 2 minute web piece for Apple. these experiences have earned me a decent sized network peers and colleagues who I trust. Enough so that I think I could build a really strong team of creatives (producer, casting director, DP, editor, composer, colorist, G&E, etc.) to pull just about anything together with the right concept. I can't promise anything, but I have some free time right now to dive in on something I'm passionate about and am hitting road blocks in my own writing. Coming from a broken home, I love stories of addiction, alcoholism specifically. I'm constantly writing things related to my time growing up in a small town riddled with addiction, nothing to do, and only trouble to get into. I also love small towns with large wealth gaps of those that own the land and those who work on it. I would be interested to see anyone else's spin on these settings/themes specifically. However, I'm not unwilling to read anything else. That's just where I've tended to go in my own writing. The Logline for my short that I wrote myself is: A scattered mother struggling with her addiction kidnaps her 12 year old boy seeking one last good memory before she gives him up The problem I find is very quickly it can become too "on the nose" as a short, and more meant to be a feature. I want something that isn't a proof of concept, but rather something that fits and works on it's own as a short film. All that being said, I'm open to read just about anything and am really just hoping to click with something that feels right. Films I love that inspire me: Honey Boy, Florida Project, Aftersun, Tree of Life, Punch-Drunk Love, Queen & Slim, C'mon C'mon.

So I started graduate school this past year. Yay. Prior to this, only my bf and a few close friends knew I ID'd as nonbinary. I decided to start using they/them exclusively as soon as grad school started. I did not know any of the people in my cohort before starting school, so they have not had to "adjust" their pronoun usage for me. I have always been out as nonbinary to them and always been clear about using they/them pronouns.
I still get misgendered consistently. Nearly every class. There are a few trans folks in my cohort which is great, I really have appreciated their support. But many of my cis classmates misgender me so so often. Sometimes they will apologize and correct themselves without making a big deal about it, but other times it is a whole production where it is like they want me to comfort them about the mistake.
One guy misgendered me - in a conversation I was not present for, and could not have otherwise known about the misgendering - and he emailed me a paragraph to apologize. My dude, you could have just corrected yourself to whoever you were talking to? You do not need to repent to me for your sins??
I'm feeling exhausted and discouraged, I guess. Like at this point idk if I should just give up and accept not everyone will get it, or keep trying because I know trans youth need visibility in adults. I'm just tired. Idk if I'm really seeking advice, I just needed to vent.

Death was an inevitability in war.
It didn't matter if your head was blown clean off your body, or you were eviscerated by a vector cannon. War didn't end until every combatant was dead. This was an unfortunate inevitability in the galaxy, so when Yatra was captured by Humans and had his poison pill confiscated, he resigned himself to the inevitable torture.
His wrists were bound, all six of them, and he was sat at a table, the Human female sat across from him, outside of their exo-armor, wearing some manner of fabric covering, Yatra cast glances at the mug of steaming liquid the Human carried.
First degree burns weren't fatal, they were, however, extremely painful, and no doubt the torture would begin with the liberal application of small amounts of heated liquids from the small mug.
"Name, rank, and any other official designations?" The Human asked. Yatra didn't respond. "Allow me to remind you that you are a prisoner of war, and that we need to document who you are before we proceed." The Human looked into his eyes. "Don't make me ask again."
The eyes were cold, Yatra intuited that as long as he had information to give, the torture would be delayed, perhaps long enough for rescue.
"Yatra, Third Hand of Taa Lassa." He replied quietly.
The Human looked at a datapad and tapped at it. "Taa Lassa is one of your deities, correct?" She asked. She looked into Yatra's eyes, brow raised to emphasize the question. Yatra knew this information wasn't classified, so he confirmed.
The Human picked up the mug and Yatra tensed, he didn't stop tensing even as the Human sipped from the mug and set it back down. 'Oh, Gods.' He thought to himself. 'It has already begun.'
"Who is your commanding officer?" The Human asked.
Yatra refused to name his commander, he refused to give the Humans their next target. "I refuse." He stated. He closed his eyes, anticipating the sharp sting of hot liquid. He waited, silent, anticipating an attack that refused to come.
"What was your mission out there?" The Human's voice came to his ears, Yatra opened his eyes in confusion. The Human... wasn't trying to torture the information out of him?
"What?" He asked.
"Your mission. Why did your troop attack our survey camp?" The Human reiterated.
Yatra stared at her uncomprehendingly. "You... are our enemy." He said. "It is natural that we would attack you."
"Hmm... A standard answer." The Human muttered. "Why attack us specifically?" She asked. "To our knowledge, the moon provides no tactical advantage, is nowhere near any major planets, and even the planet is known to be toxic to most life, to the point of being unsuitable as a bioweapon or manufacturing."
"It is simple; you were there." Yatra replied. "How else is one to fight an enemy?"
The Human nodded. "Alright. Last question, at least for now. Do you have any allergies, reasonable ethical or religious accommodations?"
Yatra didn't understand the question. He blinked, confused. "I- do not understand, Human. Why would I give you the means to torture me, to defile me? If you are going to kill me anyway, you may as well kill me now."
The Human stared at him, her expression was... shocked, and more than a little concerned. This confused Yatra.
"You are a prisoner of war, your species might not have signed the Geneva Convention, but we still observe it in times of war." She paused. "At least, most of the time." She looked at the datapad. "Did you catch that, Greg?" She asked. "We should let our troops know to look for signs of any concentration camps, we also might need to bring in the therapy corp."
Yatra stared at the Human warily, her words did not make sense. "What does this have to do with my being here?" He asked.
"We don't torture our prisoners." The Human replied. "During the time we have you incarcerated, we will need to feed you and make sure your basic needs are met. Knowing what allergies you have means we won't have to treat you for anaphylactic shock, and making sure we know what religious taboos you have regarding food, directions you may need to pray in, or even if your faith prohibits any specific clothing materials is important."
Yatra still did not understand. "Why... would you waste your resources on me?" He asked.
"This war will end soon." The Human replied. "And right now, we have over two hundred of your people's soldiers held in our prison ships, waiting for your leaders to answer our communications for peace." She paused, taking another drink of her coffee. "Now, I've got nine more of your kind to process before my shift is over, and thanks to you, I at least know you're expecting us to torture you, so I can at least attempt to address that immediately, it might streamline the process, maybe make the others more talkative."
There was a pause, the Human fixed Yatra with an intense stare. "Thus, what allergies do you have, and what reasonable ethical or religious accommodations can we make to ensure you're treated humanely?"
Yatra didn't have any answer. He was prepared to recite the Thirty-nine Mantras of Taa Lassa as he boiled alive, he wasn't prepared for... whatever this was.
"I'll let you think on it." She said. "Just let the guards know if you need to pray or something, we'll make sure you have as much space as you need for it."
And with that, Yatra was escorted out of the room, and into a cell. He had expected being strapped to a table, acid poured onto his naked flesh. He didn't expect clean, albeit garish clothing, nor did he expect a bed, a waste receptacle, and most of all, a tray full of fresh and warm food.
Yatra silently picked up the tray and sat on the bed. He didn't realize he was crying until his tears fell onto the tray.

Why does this game seem to hate the magic path? Theirs just so so much against you at every possible turn.
Increased food and water consumption is whatever, fine I can deal with that. But fucking back-casting? Its literally insane that you can do self damage basically just because. You can kill yourself because you tried to do the main thing you're supposed to be doing.
Imagine if you we're playing a 2H Sword and the game went "Whoops sorry, you fucked your swing up bad and cut your own foot off!" Or a bow build and the game went "Oooo sorry bud, the string on it snapped so now you're main weapon is broken and useless and you'll have to buy a new one and get it re-string for an insane amount of money" Staff Build "You hit this guy with really hard armor and so your staff broke in half!"
And not to mention the first two bosses have insanely high magic resistance, and don't get me started on mage hunters. It just seems this game wants to turn you away from its magic trees at every single opportunity and I don't understand

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vS4GqAqTI2A I'm already setting up a much nicer microphone and camera, so no worries there. I really wanted to put this strain review out there, but more so I wanted to voice some deeper thoughts. Would love any and all feedback. Thank you so much for giving this a look! Much love!

i‘m saying apparently because i haven‘t seen any changes yet, like mood swings or a larger belly. fyi i‘m apothisexual (sex-repulsed asexual)
i‘ve known for like a month already. it started out with a "simple" rumor at school (we go to a prevocational school, this is the last month) saying she‘s pregnant. i didn‘t believe it, until my friend (let‘s call her alice) said she‘ll do a pregnancy test. i really hoped she wouldn‘t end up pregnant, until she sent me a picture of her baby (ultrasound pic). i was quite disappointed and i feel selfish for feeling that way. ive always hated people giving birth to children and ive always hated children. but, i never actually saw the results of her pregnancy test and the ultrasound pic could have been a pic by her friend who recently gave birth.
at school, i never mentioned her child because i didn‘t want to talk about this kind of stuff. this week, on wednesday, she showed me her hickeys and i was just like „please don‘t talk about this with me.“ i genuinely didn‘t want to hear about M's sex life since well, she‘s 16. i told her a few times already that i would not distance myself from her just because she‘s pregnant, but i also told her i will not make friends with her child.
yesterday, when we saw a child (who i‘m guessing was 10 or 11) running, i said „god, i hate children“ and she looked at me deadly in the eyes. like, what are you looking at, am i not allowed to have opinions anymore just because youre pregnant now? god i hate this. i don‘t wanna talk to her about her pregnancy because it genuinely makes me uncomfortable.

Hi. I’ve never been on a forum like this before and honestly I don’t feel totally comfortable being on here because it feels like if I share what I experienced as a child, it’s out of my control and the one thing I can control about it is how other people perceive (or don’t perceive) it. It’s hard to remember the age when it started, probably around 8 and went to like 12? It’s too cloudy. I was in a very toxic friendship with a girl the same age as me who was an extremely close family friend. Like when I say close, our lives were completely entangled with one another. She was always very physically violent. I remember I had a giant bruise on my knee once and she punched it as hard as she could. That happened every time I had any sort of bruising. I think she enjoyed seeing me in pain, which was starkly different from the way she treated everyone else. If you ask anyone who was in our lives, they would tell you she was the model child. We were “captains” of one of the programs at school and when I would be late to events (I was 9 and my parents were always running late) she wouldn’t talk to me for days. She would get other people to ignore me too, even when I tearfully begged for them to talk to me. I was a really introverted, but well liked kid. I freaked out if I did absolutely anything wrong or if I got below an A in a class and would absolutely hate myself. An overt perfectionist. She noticed my weaknesses and would use them against me. She was so young yet had the psychological prowess of a much older, much smarter person. I could talk about how she bullied me for hours and hours and hours and trust me when I say it only gets worse the deeper you go. The sexual abuse started during the times when she would ignore me. She was an extremely sexual child and I knew and was taught absolutely nothing about sex. Didn’t know what it was. But I figured out very early on if we were doing sexual acts or letting her show me sexual videos she finally acted like she loved me. She was so kind and gentle in those moments. I know it’s weird but it was like this space that existed outside our relationship where I felt at peace to be around her and felt like I finally wasn’t disappointing her. The abuse went on essentially every weekend for years and years until one day I saw in science class a presentation on STDs and had a panic attack when I realized I had been doing these things. I was an extremely intelligent and hard working student but I was also sheltered as hell and have a natural naivety and hard time seeing bad people for who they are. So when I saw this presentation on AIDS, I jumped to the conclusion that because I had sex I had it. I was 12 at the time and for some reason thought if you had AIDS you had like 10 years left to live so I started to prepare myself to die at 22. I didn’t eat, didn’t sleep, and constantly was working myself up to a fever and dry heaving but couldn’t throw up because there was no food in my stomach. I wasn’t even raised in a religious environment but felt like I was a disgusting human being because I was no longer a virgin. I hated myself. But I was also the kid who was involved in everything, loved school, and always had a lot of friends. The summer times for the next couple of years were the worst. In school, I was able to completely immerse myself in activities and curriculum but when I was on summer vacation, I was completely alone with my thoughts. I also have OCD, which I think was triggered by this time period, which only worsened these thought patterns. I spoke to no one about it and several times contemplated on ending my life to spare my family the embarrassment of dying from a sexually transmitted disease in the future. I eventually cut ties with this person, and sent them a letter basically saying she bullied the shit out of me but mentioned nothing about the sexual abuse. I don’t even know if I would’ve ended the friendship if I wasn’t so terrified of having AIDS. I didn’t realize it wasn’t my fault for a long time. I’m still working on that. I know I don’t have AIDS now, but the thought made me avoidant of a lot of things (not baking with my friends because I didn’t want my contaminated hands touching their food). The feeling of contaminating people with my presence is still with me today, even after all these years. I’m still working on undoing all the damage, most of which feels too personal and sad to include in a post, but what it makes it terrible is my family’s continuous affinity for her even after I told them what she did. She was kind of sociopathic and good at hiding her bullying, but everyone close to us saw what was happening and did nothing, even my parents. They knew about the bullying when it was happening and was supportive of my decision of not being her friend but never sacrificed the relationship they had with her and her family. Even after years passed by and I told them about the sexual abuse component as well. I still have to see her and hear what she’s doing, and she even seems like a nice person now. She is now a lesbian and caused me to have deeply confusing thoughts about my own sexuality for a long time before I finally realized I was attracted to only men. She’s taken so much from me and my life but I am a successful person and scholar who is just now a decade later starting the true healing process. I can’t even begin to express how much this experience stunted me sexually and caused me to avoid even learning about sex until I was basically an adult. I feel so behind in so many ways. It’s a weird feeling to post this in the hopes of feeling like other people could possibly understand what you’re feeling when you simultaneously deeply hope no one can relate to this pain.

Hello everyone,
It has come to my attention that when I have to apply for a job how I present myself socially and through a resume is bad to me. My reason being is that I want to work and get a decent career but the main thing that stands in my way is my grouchiness and immaturity. I'm good with computers and math though. The thing is when finding employment, I want people to focus on my ability and skills and education. I find it insulting that the bully who purposely flunked high school ends up more successful because of people skills; makes all the pep talk and encouragement of if you stay in school and work hard it'll pay off, a waste. Thing is too as I get older I notice my generation slowly becoming my boss. I've found boomers less critical of people skills than the new generation. I just don't want my talent to go to waste because I can't put on a show for everyone. 2023 make work performance not water cooler talk the main focus. Not everyone can be everyone's friend is the thing.

I posted this on another sub but it was banned or something.
Last year i fucked up and broke up. I'm sure we would have been happy together we were made for each other, but it was a ldr and things were getting hard. If only i was born closer we would have been so happy. I was born in the wrong country. He's going to find a girl who lives closer and I'll regret being born in a shit hole where no one can follow their dreams. Why is it fair? I will kms if they end up together. Life owes me peace. Life is unfair. I just want to die.
Why did God put me here in this nowhere land that's shitty and underdeveloped like hell with shitty ass men? I will kms if they are together. I will kms if we don't end up together. We still talk daily,, but i sensed a change in his ways. I don't give a shit what anyone says. If we don't end up together I'm not going to end up in this shit land of dirt bag men. I'm not living here another year. I'm not. It takes years to get a visa. I'm not staying here alive.

I (18F) can’t find any kind of sexual pleasure no matter what I try.
Rubbing my clit, nipples, etc doesn’t feel good or bad, just “well I’m touching myself”
The few times I’ve been wet enough to finger myself, it just feels like I’m touching any other part of my body.
I found my g-spot (or so I think) but it doesn’t give me any kind of pleasure.
And even when I am wet, once I start touching myself for some reason I get dry, even if I’m turned on and horny.
I’ve tried literally everything, from the shower head, to trying to use vibrating objects (I can’t get sex toys yet, since I’m still with my parents) to trying to use makeshift dildos
I just end up feeling like crying, because I feel abnormal and sometimes ends up hurting.
I’ve tried watching porn, looking at pictures, etc, but those don’t turn me on, porn just makes me feel bored and start analyzing it scientifically and pictures just make me uncomfortable.
Is there some kind of medical reason for this, or something holding me back? I do have some sexual trauma, but I don’t think it affects me that much, because i can still get wet/horny when I read erotica, but that’s it, and even then it’s only for a little while, and not very long.
I’ve never had sex before, and I doubt I will for awhile, but would that give me some kind of pleasure? I’m just sick of feeling horny most of the day, then unable to find satisfaction.

First of all! Thank you to all of my USPS peeps. You all are working hard and you are appreciated.
A large rock with no markings, different rocks everytime keep ending up in my mailbox. Rocks are about 8 in by 3in relatively.
My questions. Is this a "Fuxk you" from my mail carrier? If so, what can I do to make them happy? Is this a secret message from the carrier? Like, "No mail today!" Or does one of my neighbors have it out to get me?
All the best.