u/Apprehensive_Land142

I used to see this therapist who would sometimes spend anywhere from five to thirty uninterrupted minutes lecturing me about something. The topics ranged from explaining the definitions of simple words in the slowest way imaginable, conversations that would drag on for fifteen or twenty minutes despite realistically needing no more than two, to giving me completely unsolicited advice, like insisting I should learn how to drive.

She’d try to force engagement during those conversations. At one point, she kept asking where I’d want to drive if I learned. I said “the market” just to give an answer, but apparently that wasn’t good enough, so she kept pushing. When I eventually said maybe traveling through another country, she immediately told me to “be more realistic”, even though I had never said I wanted to learn how to drive in the first place, let alone that I wanted to be persuaded into changing my mind about it. That entire discussion lasted almost a full session.

And I never interrupted her. I’d always just pretend to agree by the end because I didn’t want the conversation to drag on even longer. The best comparison I can think of is that she sounded like those old AI narration voices from short-form videos, that oddly slow, monotone style that feels less like a conversation and more like someone reading a script at you.

Looking around online afterward, I realized this wasn’t even an isolated experience. Even though most therapeutic approaches emphasize that the client should be doing most of the talking, how come some therapists still somehow come to the conclusion that long, one-sided lectures are helpful?

Quando eu tinha entre 11 e 14 anos, eu odiava como uma das primeiras perguntas que me faziam quando me viam era sobre namorar, sobre os “namoradinhos”. O que eu mais odiava era o quanto eram invasivos, porque um simples “não” nunca bastava. Eles continuavam insistindo, ou então zoavam, dizendo coisas como “não deixa seus pais saberem”.

Havia amigos da família que, toda vez que iam lá em casa, passavam o tempo inteiro, desde a hora em que chegavam até a hora de ir embora, enchendo o saco com isso.

Eu frequentava uma psicóloga que gostava muito, mas teve uma época em que ela cismou em querer falar de “crush”, mesmo eu negando tudo. Chegou ao ponto de eu parar de mencionar qualquer amigo menino, só para evitar que ela questionasse isso. Mesmo assim, ela continuava insistindo. Teve uma vez em que eu fui à festa e brinquei com um menino no pula-pula. Quando contei sobre a festa para ela, menti dizendo que só tinha criança pequena, pra que ela não entrasse no assunto. Ainda assim, ela me questionou se tinha meninos e se eu ficava olhando para eles porque achava bonitos. Mas era verdade que eu não olhava para os meninos desse jeito, mas, mesmo sem intenção, ela me fazia sentir como se eu tivesse feito algo errado.

I bought a little potty chair for dogs, but I never managed to teach her to use it because she simply won't go in front of me. When we go to parks, I always take a few small bags and bio-enzymatic cleaners just in case, but never used it, she always waits till she get home, don't matter how many hours it takes. When she had surgery and was staying indoors, whenever I took her to the backyard to do it, she would wait for me to go inside, and then stare at the windows, making sure I wasn't lurking on her.

I don't know what's going on in her head, she feels ashamed in a human sense? Are dogs even biologically capable of feeling any sense of embarrassment?

I spent Christmas at my girlfriend’s place since I was stuck in town alone. Her mother has looked down on me from day one—she’s never made peace with her daughter being with a woman—and she spent the entire dinner dragging me. After hours of taking it in silence, I finally snapped. Seeing red, I stood my ground as she hurled a glass at me and charged. I was ready to end it right there, knowing my relationship was dead in the water.

But, just as the blow was about to land, the sky turned a sickening shade of neon violet. I looked out the window and saw massive, organic vessels descending through the clouds, their silhouettes blocking out the moon. A deafening, metallic pulse shattered every glass in the house, bringing us to our knees. My relationship was over, but so was the world. The Harvest had begun...

The Full Story

I got into a fistfight with my girlfriend's dad on Christmas..

Yeah, you heard that right. It was the biggest mistake of my life, for real. But hey, I know it’s funny to laugh at a train wreck, so I’ll give you guys that satisfaction. If you don’t wanna read this, now’s your chance to bail. Let's go.

The Background: I’ve been dating her for 8 months. In that time, I’ve been to her house maybe 10 times max, and never for more than half an hour. The reason? Her dad is a total piece of shit. And when I say piece of shit, I mean it. The guy has looked down on me since day one, going out of his way to make me feel like a nobody, constantly humiliating me.

Besides the fact that I’m banging his daughter, he hates me because of that classic class divide. I’m not a total brokie, but my job isn’t exactly impressive, while they come from generations of engineers—filthy rich. Fine. But for him to think I’m only there for the money is some weak shit. His daughter is gorgeous; I’d be with her even if she was broke. But for fuck's sake, it’s been 8 months. Can’t the guy just wave a white flag and give it a rest?

My family went to visit relatives, but I had to work, so I stayed behind. When you’re in a relationship and your girl doesn't vibe with your friends, you inevitably drift apart. It’s that "them or me" rule. So, no family and no friends around. I had no choice but to spend Christmas with her. I hated the idea, obviously, but she insisted everything would be fine. Yeah, right...

The Showdown: Let’s skip to dinner. You can already imagine my "charming" father-in-law wouldn't even look at me. He spent the whole time throwing shade, trying to humiliate me.

First thing: The maid was serving everyone. When she got to me, he INTERRUPTED her and told her to just leave the dishes on the table because I "knew how to serve myself" since I was "used to self-service buffets." Imagine how much of a loser I felt like right then. My girlfriend gave me a sad look and served me herself. I tried to ignore it. I tried to keep it together.

Second thing: My phone rang. It was my mom calling to wish me a Merry Christmas. I answered, and he SLAMMED his fist on the table. "DON'T YOU HAVE ANY MANNERS? KEEP IT DOWN, YOU GHETTO RAT!" My mom heard that. I got up from the table to talk to her. At this point, you can imagine how pissed I was. Fuck the dinner, fuck everything. I wasn't even hungry anymore.

My girlfriend tried to play it off and asked who it was. I whispered it was my mom. Then the motherfucker just had to make a joke about my mom, didn't he? He looked straight at me and said: "Does your mom's boss even let her use her phone at work? So entitled. Lazy maids like that only get what's coming to them when they work for me."

That was it. I’d feel like a spineless pussy for the rest of my life if I didn't knock this guy's teeth out right there. I knew the relationship was over, I knew I was ruining Christmas, but I wasn't gonna let him talk shit about someone who wasn't even there to defend themselves.

I stopped giving a fuck. I don’t remember my exact words because I was seeing red, but it went something like this: "LISTEN HERE, YOU PILE OF SHIT. YOU MESSING WITH ME FOR 8 MONTHS IS ENOUGH REASON FOR ME TO BREAK YOUR FACE, BUT TALKING SHIT ABOUT MY MOTHER FOR NO REASON?"

Then he screamed: "SHUT YOUR MOUTH, YOU GHETTO TRASH," and threw his glass at me. It hit my arm. The table was pure chaos—girlfriend trying to hold me back, his wife pulling him away, her sister crying. I was ready to kill him. He started coming around the table like a bull to get to me, and I stood my ground, staring him down. As he was coming at me, I looked through the big dining room window behind him.

I saw what looked like a small unmanned aerial vehicle fly past, followed by a metallic exoskeleton armed with a machine gun. Suddenly, a deafening blast followed by a blinding light. It was the beginning of the age of The Machine Age...