r/trauma

Emotional song about love and fear existing at the same time.

I am in a negative headspace as of late and have been reflecting on another in life. I'm finding myself very negative towards religion due to many circumstances but am unsure if it's religious trauma or I'm just looking for something to be angry at??

I was not raised religious, in recent years I've found myself more drawn to the practices of theistic Satanism but would not consider myself practicing.

I found out around 15 that I had been baptized as a baby under the Anglican church, this was never told to me prior and was almost laughed off as a joke by my mother when asked about it.

I grew up without a father and was told by my mom that he was an alcoholic that used Christianity as an excuse for his bad choices.

At 6 years old I had begun the process of being diagnosed with Muscular Dystrophy and for the next few years, was constantly having people pray for me without consent which I've always found great discomfort in but I was raised to be respectful and just allow it. I've been told that 'God' made me this way as a lesson to my mother or as a gift to me which always felt very backwards and often hurt me more than comforted

I grew up in a very very bad household and was often 'prayed' for and I was never sure whether to rely on the prayers for help or not but at times found myself desperately praying to whatever God was out there to save me and change my life

This year my father contacted me for the first time in my life. He's now sober, though still very religious. He asked me to begin reading the Bible with him, even mailing me two and having me read with him each night despite knowing I myself am not religious nor am I seeking God. He's occasionally corrected how I read the Bible, in a shameful way, saying I'm not doing in right and I've felt immense shame and embarrassment. I am certain he's trying to convert me and often I feel the need to remind him that I am not religious

I've expressed simple fears to him such as insects and he always says that fear isn't real and it's put in you by the devil which always feels incredibly dismissive so I've refrained from discussing fears He also believes that emotions are lies and all feelings are from the devil, even happiness so he dismisses these as well

Recently he also excused societies mistreatment of women as just a 'way of the world'. He told me Kamala Harris was never going to win the election because "Men don't feel comfortable with a woman in power" and went on about the 'order' and followed it with "But I mean no offense, that's just how it is", though as his daughter, I very much took offense. He constantly uses the order as a way to demean women and explain why they shouldn't have a place outside of a home. He's very aware that I disagree but insists on the Bible being right.

Then just today, after being in a years long battle with my family after cutting them off because my cousin (20) began dating a minor (15) and I was seen as wrong and unforgiving for pushing him and the entire supportive family out of my life after doing all I could to have his wrongs recognized, was told I 'lacked humility' by an uncle and told that he was going to 'pray' for me

The only religion or prayers I've received have been to change me, my body, or my beliefs, which have severely impacted me. I feel broken, wrong and like a fucking monster because all of these people pray to make me right. I do not know if I'm looking at this all wrong or if this is some form of religious/spiritual trauma but I thought it was best to seek advice so I can further explore how to better cope with this.

Thank you so much <3

[supprimé]

Last summer I had severe Status Epilepticus, I’m talking 1 week coma, my kidneys failed so I needed dialysis, I got a lung infection, I was on life support… basically the whole shabang if we’re being quite honest. My neurologist counted it as a medication failure and I’ve since switched up from Lamotrigine and Keppra to Carbamazepine and Keppra (I also tried Valproic Acid, but continued to have Onset Focals so we switched to Carbamazepine which has been doing its job as I just hit 7 weeks without any seizures).

Since June I’ve had random panic attacks, deep depression (not at all times, but frequently enough for me to really notice it and when I get depressed it’s pretty intense), I’ll find myself becoming nervous or anxious in high density places and I have to remove myself because I start sweating profusely, this occurs at family gatherings as well, not just in public areas with random people, I find it very difficult to have a conversation or continue and interesting conversation unless im in a comfortable location (this is new.. I used to be in advertising for the local news…)

Another major thing I noticed recently that I guess I’ve been doing for a while but didn’t notice is I can’t find interest in things I used to enjoy, I can’t think about things that I would like to do or see, I tried to think about something I’d really enjoy doing this summer and my mind completely drew a blank… all I think about is “I’m almost 2 months seizure free, I don’t want to risk anything to fuck that up” or “I’m only 2 months seizure free, what if I have another one and fuck my plans up?” Or something that really messed with me is I had a moment when things didn’t feel right and then all I could think about is “what if I’m still in that coma… the world seems too messed up right now to be real”… there’s so many more examples but that’s all I want to fit in here.

I just don’t know if this is a medication thing or if I might have actually been very very messed up from my sever SE episode and need medical help. I’ve made an appointment with my doctor and psychiatrist but want to know if anyone else on this forum has experienced something similar…

Cheers everyone, and stay safe!

I am in my 40s, female. Have a successful career. Would consider myself outgoing, conventionally attractive. In fact, the first thing people usually comment on (unsolicited) is how I look. At my core, am an upbeat and carefree person who enjoys smiling, laughing, interacting with people, etc. I have kids and pets who I love and care for.

All that said, starting from a very young age, I have had a series of scary experiences, with men being the perpetrators. Sexual abuse by a male family member as a child; a male teacher in his 40s had sex with me when I was 14; marriage (and later divorce) with a man twice my age when I was in college (I was looking for safety and stability… ended up being the worst type of control and abuse); sexual harassment at work when a married male boss made a pass at me and then threatened to ruin my career if I didn’t withdraw a complaint to HR. Let’s see what else… a man I dated who I caught cheating, smashed my walls and hit me in a blind rage when I broke up with him. I’ve been on a date with a police officer (again, looking for safety), who tried to force my head onto his crotch when I was in his car. The officer then sent me the most offensive porn images to my phone, I can’t even describe, but even seeing these images traumatized me. I tried going the opposite direction and went on a couple dates with the most meek and non-threatening man I could find, a shorter balding guy. Guess what? When I told him I couldn’t hang out one weekend, he sent me over 300 text messages, came to my front door uninvited, punched my door, and called me a barrage of obscene insults in front of my neighbors.

I have learned by now that speaking up and holding these men accountable does nothing; or worse, it causes them to escalate their abuse and/or cover their tracks. Starting from when I was a kid and I told a trusted adult, like you’re supposed to, I have found that no one actually does anything to help… and that men believe it is their entitlement to use my body for their selfish needs, and to harm me if I don’t go along with it.

I do not think I’m special or alone in this. When speaking in therapy or in confidence with other women, I am disheartened that my experience is a common one.

Men have threatened my body, my career, the home I live in - and I simply don’t feel safe even existing anymore. I want to hide in my house and never come out. The things I enjoyed about life, and the hope I felt for the future, seem like a past memory of a different time. I am afraid to let my kids see me this way. I am afraid for my kids to have to face such a world. The only reason I am keeping going, is to be here for them. Thank you for listening.

TWS: head injury, possible emotional abuse, rape, sexual assault, narcissistic traits

TLDR: I freeze and fawn when people argue or confront me because of trauma I suffered like rape and possibly emotional abuse. I've struggled for years without knowing what it was. I would like some advice and thoughts.

So I (19f) think I have chronic dissociation. According to Google, dissociation is "a mental process involving a disconnection between a person's thoughts, memories, feelings, actions, or sense of identity. It acts as a coping mechanism for stress or trauma, causing feelings of detachment from oneself or the world, ranging from mild daydreaming to severe, chronic conditions". Some symptoms are feeling like you're detached from your body, feeling like the world around you is foggy/dreamlike, having memory gaps, and feeling uncertain who you are.

I don't know exactly when it started but it feels like I've had it my whole life. The earliest thing I can remember is probably when I was around 10. I hit my head on the door hinge plate on the frame of the door and I only remember hitting my head, getting a numbing shot in my wound, and getting the stitches out. The parts with pain are the only moments I remember.

My family is a huge picture and travel family so we have tons of photos from different places around the world. Sometimes when I look at a photo, I can remember what happened a little bit before, during, and a little bit after the photo was taken but most of the photos I can't remember what had happened. When people are talking about a memory I struggle to pull it up in my head and I tend to fake remembering it a lot just to feel included and for them to continue their story about or relating to said memory.

As stated above, it's a coping mechanism from stress or trauma but the only traumas I can really remember are me struggling during my middle school years and when I was raped.

My middle school years were very tough. I was officially diagnosed with ADHD in late 6th grade after struggling for the entire year. 5th grade was easy but as soon as 6th grade hit I was struggling to focus, day dreaming, doodling, and getting distracted too much. My grades would slip because I wasn't turning in or doing my homework. My parents would get upset at me, a verbal fight would ensue with crying and raised voices, I would get grounded and my devices would be taken away. My grades would then rise and I'd get my devices back but then the cycle would continue. I was also officially diagnosed with chronic depression in 6th grade, so life was a huge struggle. And for my ADHD diagnosis, my mother had to fight tooth and nail to get me diagnosed because of my parents being on my ass constantly making my grades theirs basically. I thought something was incredibly wrong with me. I thought I was broken, a terrible child, useless, and a disappointment to my family because I had no idea that I had ADHD until the diagnosis. My parents had known since I was younger but refused to get me diagnosed until 6th grade. They tried every method in the book. Punishment (mostly), rewarding, taking small breaks, setting timers, practically everything before diagnosis and medication. I just wish they had told me before my diagnosis so I didn't think I was so broken back then.

The other trauma I can remember was my rape. Some context beforehand, I was dating this Senior Ethan (not real name) when I was a freshman (we were underage), who hosted a pool party one day for summer. Me and Ethan had almost been dating for an entire year and I had fallen out of love for about 2 months at this point. Ethan invited Marcus (not real name) to the party. Marcus immediately took a liking to me, following me around, asking how to put a towel on your head like women do after showers, and talking about our sexualities. Me and him exchanged numbers and I had started to like Marcus. I eventually broke up with Ethan and started dating Marcus. When we got back to school, I started hearing things about Marcus. He was hated by practically everyone in the school, he raped another girl, he was generally a dickface. He told me that the girl axtually had raped him. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and I believed him because I thought I really liked him. Over the course of our relationship he'd say shit like "I look hit, don't I? Yeah. I look so hot. Right?" And I'd nod and smile even though I felt awkward. He gavevoff a lot of narcissistic tendencies and symptoms. He was very rude too my entire family and my friends, actually flipping my dad off twice getting him and myself banned from the other's house. He refused to say an apology to my father and denied ever doing it even though it was obvious. At this point we had already decided to be polyamorus so I asked him if it was alright if I started dating anther guy. He said yes and I did. Eventually when I could go over to Marcus' house, he was rough and forceful. Saying stuff like "Why did you fuck him? My dick is better, huh? Yeah, my dick is bigger and longer." While I just lie there, in pain but not wanting to say anything. He always focused on his pleasure, too. He bought himself lingerie to wear.. not for me but for him.

Anyways, those are all the traumas that I can remember. The only other possibly that caused this might be emotional abuse or emotional immaturity.

I think both my parents (44f and 45m) are emotionally immature which has caused me a lot of pain in my life. My father had severe anger issues (which are slightly better now), any emotion besides happiness would turn to anger and he would yell at whoever got in his way or caused it like me, my sister (17f), and/or my mom. My mom is very emotionally unstable. She will keep things in for a long period of time and then someone will do something to cause her to shout at us and cry incessantly. In the past, she would make very hurtful jokes and when me or my sister would make a hurtful joke back (which tended to be less mean but still mean) she would immediately cry. Sometimes I would tell her that her joke hurt when she started to cry and she would say "well your joke was worse" or "your joke hurt more."

As far as emotional abuse, I felt like my parents would regularly and constantly dismiss my feelings because of their own adult responsibilities but if they did acknowledge them, they would say that I was overreacting or only give a logical answer with little to no sympathy. My father especially would make me very upset and angry because he has the "I'm the parent, you're the child therefore I am better and you must listen to me" type of view as well as that respect means obedience.

From all of those things I think I have developed severe and chronic dissociation it's making life really hard. I doubt my own memory and reality constantly which makes me vulnerable and I hate it. For some reason I remember sitting in the van as a kid, I'm not sure which age, and I remember my mother getting angry and slapping me in the face and then when I hopped out to follow her inside she accidentally shut the door on my fingers. I cannot for the life of me remember if she actually did slap me or not but I do know that my fingers getting crushed is 100% true. Fingers are fine now btw.

But like I said, it's making life extremely difficult because during fights, my brain immediately begins to dissociate and I cannot keep track of things my parents did or said or told me to fix, etc. So I can't change my behaviors if I can't remember. I don't want to dissociate but it's extremely hard to stay lucid when I freeze and fawn. I do have a therapist but she is in the city I used to live in and the ones around my parents house (where I live now) are not good enough or didn't get back to me. Getting a new therapist is also on a backburner for me and my mother (who offered to find me one). I've been struggling with this for years and years not knowing what exactly it was. Is there any advice you have, please tell me and let me know your thoughts. Thank you 🫶

When someone calls you repeated harm out of ignorance and lack of consideration, but they didn’t mean it maliciously or intend to harm you how can you work through the feelings of hurt and resentment? I’m trying to reframe from a perspective of forgiveness and understanding that they had no malicious intent, but no matter how hard I try I still feel this way and I can no longer be around them because they do not feel emotionally safe. Like I’m thinking about trying somatic therapy because these feelings and wounds live in my body at this point, but I’m just having a hard time coming to a place of acceptance and forgiveness. Do I just need time and distance and am I just rushing myself? Any advice is appreciated.

I’m almost 21. I met my ex a month before I turned 20, and a month after I turned 20 he became my first everything but there were crossed lines and he sexually assaulted me. Now I keep thinking about myself as being 19. I accidentally tell people that I’m 19. I don’t get it bc he didn’t actually do it until I was 20. So why am I reverting back to. 19? It’s been especially bad as of late.

This isn’t the most coherent but I’m lowkey stressed. I wish more than anything I never met him

Let me preface by saying I KNOW this isn’t healthy. I’m a psych grad student so I absolutely understand that.

Something really traumatic happened Wednesday and I’ve been a wreck since. I was given Xanax to help sleep but I work six days a week and can’t take time off. I can’t afford (literally) to have a breakdown. There’s nothing I can do in this situation and I have to wait for everything to play out on its own. While that happens I need to block it out and I just don’t know *how.* My therapist is out of office and I tried virtual therapy and it was unsuccessful. Someone tell me there’s a way to pretend none of this is happening, because the Xanax makes me not anxious but it doesn’t stop the thoughts.

I was wondering if you could share things/tips which helped you deal with/overcome trauma?

i’ve lost my dad suddenly and seeing him die in front of my eyes has really hurt me, i tried therapy and taking meds now (lexapro) but im not sure if it’s helping me much. so any positive story would help.

If you need to get some stuff off your mind and need someone to talk to, I’m happy to discuss it with you, sometimes talking to a stranger to get something off your chest can help!

I’m not a professional or anything, just offering an ear if you need one :)

I feel like the biggest asshole in the world, and I need some outside opinion.

From the beginning, it was a very healthy, open, and honest relationship, or so I kind of thought. I smoke weed, drink, and vape. It’s not the best way to cope with my feelings, but I’ve found that it’s my favorite. It’s the most affordable and safest way for me to shut my brain off, but yet again, NOT THE POINT. Marco has never drunk before. Not one single ounce of alcohol, never touched weed, would never even consider it, and he thinks vaping is disgusting. Now this is one of the very first things he tells me, within our time of being friends before dating, me, being infatuated and wanting to impress him, I tell him I’ve quit my phase of recreational use of substances, which was probably the dumbest thing I’ve done because I very much still smoke weed, and still drink. Again, this is not extremely important to the story, but hear me out.

I haven’t experienced much college life. My boyfriend and bf I started dating almost immediately when I moved out of my house. In fact, I think we started dating before I moved out and started school. I love going out and meeting people, whether that’s at parties, the library, or wherever I am; I am a social girl. But I don’t get to do that often, and when I do, I feel judged and like I’m acting like a kid. Going to parties, going on Tinder, having drunken hookups, I never got that I could never flirt with the frat boys or the girls. I could never actually go out and feel like I was meeting people. I know that sounds HORRIBLE of me and makes me sound like a little immature child, but I have never once experienced that part of life. A part of me is scared that I will end up resenting him or hating him for not allowing me to have the ideal college experience I envisioned.

A little side note: He never leaves his house, will not go to restaurants, doesn't go to the gym, and gets his groceries delivered. We do not do anything when we are together except sit on his couch and watch sports (I hate sports)

Seeing as though I am still in college and he is working full-time, we are in very different stages in our lives. Life. I’m in college housing, living with roommates, paying rent monthly, and basically living paycheck to paycheck. Marco, on the other hand, fortunately found a house that he was able to pay off almost entirely by the time we started dating. Now, the house is perfect for a bachelor and has been ideal for him over the past few years: 2 bedrooms, 2.5 bathrooms, a great location, and a gorgeous yard. You may think I’m being unreasonable for complaining about this, but please listen. We could not raise a family there, he and I, a dog, and possibly more than one child, could not comfortably live there.

I’m not sure what the worst part of this little issue is... if it’s that he’s 100% set on living here forever and doesn’t want to move, or if it’s that it’s NEXT DOOR to his parents’ house. Not on the same block, not in the same neighborhood, not even just on the same street. Next. Fucking. Door. I can see my mother's home office from our kitchen window, and I'm not sure why, but I need a little bit of privacy.

One of my main concerns is that he is very messy. At the start, it wasn’t supernoticeable, maybe a sock or two on the floor, a few dishes in the sink, and perhaps a few pizza boxes on the floor. As time went on in our relationship, the messiness got worse. Two pizza boxes turn into 15-20 boxes shoved in the garbage, causing a constant overflow. A few socks turn into piles of clean, dirty, old, and new, all clothes in the hallway, bedroom, kitchen, living room, and a pile so big on the floor in the basement you can’t walk through. And all those dishes have turned into molded Tupperware from June (it’s now October) and plates from months ago that haven't been looked at since they were used. We also recently acquired a new couch for his living room, and the old one is still sitting in the hallway for us to climb over. I’ve had multiple conversations with him about this as well, and he told me that he’ll eventually do it or that it’s not important right now. I’ve tried hinting, but then I had to tell him straight up that it’s gross.  

Because of the sexual trauma he and I both have, we don’t have the best relationship with sex. I personally could go months without sex, but he can’t. It's not a bad thing at all, and I know some of you are going to tell me to get laid whenever I want, but you don’t understand. I could be having a panic attack, and the text I get from Marco would be “Do you think my dick would help?” I've probably heard “I'm hard” more times than I'm in love with you. He will also walk by and start humping me when we’re at his parents’ house, babysitting his nephew, while I’m talking on the phone, or just cuddling; it’s like an unneutered dog. He also can’t keep his hands to himself, and with my past, I am not the biggest fan of physical touch. I enjoy it in moderation, but I prefer not to be touched at all. He knows this about me, and I've tried to set boundaries and tell him that I don't like it, but it doesn't seem to get any better. I’m unsure about what to do with this part, either.

Now this is the cherry on top. Marco has a kink that makes me very uncomfortable; he enjoys diaper play. Yes, that’s right, diapers. Like, pull up fucking diapers (Yes, in every way you’re thinking, and yes, clean and dirty.) When he first told me he was hesitant to share the information, I trusted him and loved him, and I wanted to feel secure with him, knowing I was with him. I tried very hard to understand/ get interested in it, and I spent hours researching. I’m embarrassed to say that pornhub and Pinterest were my best friends for a few weeks. I was never able to get comfortable with the idea of just wearing a diaper, sitting on the couch while we were having sex. I couldn’t do it, but I didn’t want to hurt him. One night, while researching, he tried to put them on, and I broke down and told him how uncomfortable I felt with them, despite his efforts, and how it stressed me out. Since that conversation, I’ve been less adamant about me wearing them, but he still definitely wants/hopes I will. There will be nights that, after we have sex, I'll see him secretly put one on to go to sleep or to watch our movie. There have also been a few different instances since the conversation where I've caught him masturbating with the diaper.

So, AITAH for not wanting to spend my twenties sitting in a diaper?

****update****

I listened to the comments and realized most of you were right. I broke up with him. almost immediately. I haven't talked to him since, well, about three weeks after the breakup. He would leave me notes and gifts. super fucking weird shit. love letters on how he’ll always love me, and he'll never forget about me.

I'm doing better, ive realized a lot of the things I did were because of my trauma. I got into a lot more therapy and regretting a lot of my decisions...

A thing about my trauma is that I was sexually abused by a teacher when I was 11. I know what you're thinking... stupid bitch. I know. PTSD is a horrible thing that plays with your brain. ive learned a lot about myself in the last 6 months, that's something I would never have said a year ago today. No excuses, though, I knew what I was doing and should've been smarter, moving on from this.

The real reason for this update...

A few weeks ago, my roommates and I were just watching TV like any other day. My roommate turns to me and goes, “You need to read this.” She hands me her phone, and it's an article. The headline reads “Child Sex Crimes Filed Against Teacher”. My stomach drops, I get nauseous, I want to vomit. My jaw is currently in my pussy. WHAT THE FUCK. Now, immediately, you're thinking that it's him, right? Guess what... It's NOT. It's his little sister. HIS YOUNGER FUCKING SISTER. Whom ive met, who I was friends with, who I had spent the holidays with. She was only TWO years older than me. I'm fucking disgusted with her and him. shes a disgusting human being, and so is he.  How could she have done that to so many little kids? I hope she stays in prison forever and rots and dies, knowing what she did was terrible. The initial report was genuinely disturbing, and I think that there are some serious psychological issues, because that's fucking nasty and cruel. And with everything else that's been coming out about her... she will, she currently has 15-30. FUCKING DISGUSTING.

Oh, and now this fucking cherry on top! SHE. WAS. A. SPECIAL. EDUCATION. TEACHER. Let that one settle in a bit, and you guys might be where I am now.

I was contacted by the school district to clarify our relationship in detail, because apparently they already knew about it. Had no idea about that. I was honest with them, which was hard and yucky, but I'm happy I said anything.

There is some deep, dark, fucked up, evil shit happening in that family. I feel horrible for their nephew and niece... I want those two to be safe. I don't care about any other human being other than those two babies being safe. I know their mom loves them (she is not the one who got arrested. Just another sister in a fucked up family.)But I'm worried she won't do what she should. IDK. IDK what to think idk what to feel. I feel heartbroken, sad, and disgusted. I'm so glad I left him. I never knew how badly I needed something to become even a little more of myself.

Fuck Him. Fuck Her. Fuck his entire fucking family. I'll never speak to any of them again. Sorry that there wasn't necessarily “more” to my story if there can be anything more than that.

Love you guys for opening my eyes. I hope to god i will never have to make another post like this.

Hope this is appropriate for this forum. I am in a lot of pain every day. I have been completely alone for many years. I have no friends at all, for over ten years but more generally all of my life. I have no contacts in my phone. No online friends. I can't seem to land a job for some reason after applying to over 1000 places the past few years, so I have no coworkers. I have no classmates as I'm not in school. I was abused constantly at medical school until I dropped out.

I try to work on content in my own time sometimes and I share it. It's hard when I have no money, job, or friends for so long. My mental health is severely bad. Despite that, I've worked on content that is meaningful to me, and have had zero interaction with it anywhere. I have volunteered over the years, joined clubs, and gone to meet ups. I do virtual support groups every day. There's no in-person ones in my area and I suppose they wouldn't be any different.

I'm especially disappointed that there's no good places to make friends online. In particular, serious people. I don't necessarily need people who are severely depressed like me, although it's a good place to start in terms of mutual understanding and support. These also happen to probably be the only people who would give me any time, and who would be serious. I can't find any.

There seem to be very few platforms for any friendship. There are dating and "friend" apps, which seem to inevitably revolve around horniness. That is why they have such short bios and emphasize pictures. Some people also just never get matches there, and most people using them are not necessarily lonely or have some of the same digital-based interests I have.

So when I try relevant platforms, they seem full of people who are inactive or inconsistent and often completely unserious. Their average internet use looks like maybe logging on for 30 minutes every day to post memes with each other. I've tried communities in my interests across medicine, music, philosophy, writing, gaming. Many of these groups are also really cliquey.

I've been spending several hours a day trying to make friends online or elsewhere, though with an emphasis on online due to my preference and the accessibility. I send messages to people to see if they want to get to know each other, or comment on other people's work, share mine, etc. I don't do so feeling any individual person is obligated to be my friend. But I think I deserve and am owed the good fortune of running into one person who would be my friend, like any other person. I don't know what a person is supposed to do to make friends.

Today is one bad day among at least 5,000 bad days in a row. Around 2,500 really bad days. Today was an average day. I submitted around 20 job applications. I received a few job rejections in my email. I posted several messages looking for connection, on several platforms. I went for a walk and tried to find gig work. Tried to focus on personal health. I am in a support group as I write this. I am currently living in a sort of storage room at my grandparents' house. I don't have a real bed just a small futon. The whole room is full of boxes. I have one bag of clothes. I only have enough money for toiletries and food, which is better than nothing.

Why is it so hard to find friends online, or find people to just respond to you? Sometimes I also hear about this loneliness crisis, and yet I am constantly looking for friends and don't seem to find anyone who is lonely. There seems to be an apathy crisis at worst. Most everyone seems to have at least a few friends.

I don't even know where to start. I'm a 35 year old man. The last seven years of my life have not been kind. Two back to back cancer diagnoses the second one being stage 3. I did over 30+ radiation treatments. I then lost my house. Then I started having pulmonary issues.

A woman came into my life I finally thought things were turning around. She ended up having a bad mental breakdown and moved out on me, and moved to a whole other state. So then I was stuck with rent that I cant afford on my own. I found some roommates to move in and help.

*During all of 2024-Nov. 2025 I was working full time, had started going to school, taking my exs mom to and from work/appointments (she was having seizures). Taking my dad to his appointments and or getting him from the hospital (he had very complicated surgical hernias causing small obstructions). Also trying to do the same for my mom who has terminal cancer.*

2026..... I was hoping would be a better year but no..... my dads bowels perforated and he went into septic shock. He died in February.

So here I am bracing for my mom's passing, trying to heal after a terrible break up/discard, learning to live with new people, and then my dad dies.

So I move my mom in with me.

Now my property manager wants to do a whole new credit check for me to renew my lease. I won't pass. So now I have to move by the 30th and I have no money except 1 paycheck at the end of the month. She also said she won't give me my security deposit back because it technically came off her card. I said one she abandoned the lease, two we had split it. But she said no.

I'm about $55,000 in debt (95% student loans) and I have an associates degree but in my area jobs pay so poorly. I many woth their bachelor's degree making the same amount as me. we make about $19 an hour. Most places around me want you to make 3x the rent, and be able to pay $1000 or more for 1 bedroom apartments.

Things just seem so impossible. I work a full time job and my schedule is completely random so its also very hard to plan for anything.

Before anyone asks yes I see a therapist. frequently.

Not really looking for any input or anything.... I just needed to throw all this somewhere. If you made it this far thank you for reading.🙃

How to deal with painful memories of surviving painful situation AFTER you're out of the siruation

Have you ever been through terrible things but when you were going through those terrible things you couldn't let yourself feel anything because if you let yourself feel anything you would've crumbled because of how painful and terrible it is and so you pushed all of the pain aside in order to not break down and survive but now that youre out of that situation all those pent up painful emotions are bubbling up to the surface and the heart feels heavy. how do you deal with extreme vivid painful memories and flashbacks. especially when the wound is fresh. and especially when that's been your entire life sp you cant simply cry it out because it feels like not even a river worth of tears will amount to the pain. if so, how do you deal with it?

I’ve honestly lived my whole life feeling like a ghost in my own home. From the time I was a little kid, it was always about my brother. He was the golden child—my parents and even my grandparents worshipped the ground he walked on, while I was just the scapegoat. I grew up getting beaten to a pulp by my father for the smallest things, and then he’d lock me away in dark rooms. I’d just sit there in the pitch black, terrified and alone, wondering what was so wrong with me.

And because they were so focused on my brother or their own lives, they never protected me. We had a helper at the house—a male maid—who touched me in ways he never should have. I was violated in my own home, and there was nobody to turn to. I had to swallow that trauma and just keep going.

Then, when I was around 10 or 12, the house turned into a different kind of war zone. It came out that both my parents were having affairs. They were caught, and they were constantly on the brink of divorce. The atmosphere was so toxic I could barely breathe. I had always been really good at my studies, but my grades just fell off a cliff. How was I supposed to care about school when my family was a lie?

Football was the only thing that kept me sane. It was my soul. But even that was stolen from me. When I was 15, I was in a tournament and my knee just gave out. I completely tore my ACL and both my lateral and medial meniscus. I was in agony, but my parents didn't even bother to get me checked out. They actually accused me of faking the injury because my exams were near. They thought I was just looking for an excuse.

So, I did the most insane thing possible—I played for two years, from age 16 to 17, with a completely torn ACL and shredded meniscus. Every time I stepped on the pitch, I was destroying my body. The bones were grinding together until my cartilage was just... gone. Finally, after my grandmother and some relatives stepped in and pressured them, they got me the surgery. Those five days in the hospital were a living hell. Physically, I was wrecked, but mentally it was worse—I just laid there thinking my dream was dead and I’d never play again.

And while I was at my absolute lowest, the world just kept piling it on. My "closest" friend—someone I thought had my back—went and asked out the girl I loved with all my heart when I was 16. Then my cat died. That cat was the only thing in that house that ever gave me unconditional love, and then he was gone too.

I was the joke of the friend group. I was their scapegoat. Everyone made fun of me, calling me "glass legs" because I wasn't as good on the field anymore. They didn't realize I was out there on one leg, literally on my last legs, while everyone else was at 100%. Even my coach, the person who was supposed to guide me, was talking trash behind my back. My teammates, people I bled with on the field, they all joined in.

Now I’m 18. I’ve survived the beatings, the violation, the betrayal of the affairs, the physical destruction of my body, and the mockery of everyone I knew. I finally have a vision. I know exactly what I want to do and I know the exact path I need to take to get there. But man, I am just so drained. I’ve been fighting since I was a child, and now that the door is finally open, I feel like I don't have the strength to walk through it. I’m just so, so tired.