My boyfriend is becoming toxic and I don’t know what to do.
2020.10.17 03:04 a_rose7269 My boyfriend is becoming toxic and I don’t know what to do.
My boyfriend [29M] and I  have been together for 9 months. We moved in pretty fast with each other because of quarantine. I dont regret moving in with him he’s my best friend and I’m so comfortable infront of him.
Our relationship started super well... we didn’t argued and if we did it was cause we were drunk and it wasn’t ever anything bad. When quarantine ended I was so excited because I was about to be 21 and I really wanted to not be locked in the house for my bday nobody does! So on my 21st bday I bought a hotel, and invited all my friends and we went to eat and the casino. My boyfriend started acting super rude and toxic to me for no reason...We ended up getting over it and everything was fine and then I started to realize he slowly has been trying to change how social and outgoing I am. (Not purposely I don’t believe. He just doesn’t want me to go out a lot) but he knew I loved going out when we first got together.
Recently I’ve been going out with friends and Everytime I do it’s a HUGE fight with him. I went out last Sunday and he blew my phone up, lied about crashing the car to get my attention and he always ends up following me to the bars I go to. We got into a huge blowout fight over me going out and he kicked me out, and moved all my stuff into my office. I thought this was the last straw so I started looking for places To move to, and I found a place I really like so I’m going to sign the lease this week. Now he’s upset because I’m moving out and doesn’t want me to anymore and has been doing everything to try and make me stay. I don’t want to I miss having my own things my own place, and my freedom.
Two week prior to that incident ^ I went out with my girl friends for a girls day. We ended up deciding we wanna go to the club and dance I told him that and as soon as I did he started blowing my phone up and flipping out on me. He came to the bar I was at and started saying things like “so you’re gonna choose this over me?” And I just didn’t entertain it and made him leave. He blew up my phone the whole night I had to put it on airplane mode. I ended up going to an after party with my friends after the bar closed and I got the address from this guy he’s friends with a guy I know, and I left it in my phone like I wasn’t hiding anything and I also told everyone there I had a boyfriend.
My boyfriend ended up coming to pick me up and later that night the guy that sent me the address tried to flirt with me and before I had a chance to shit it down he ended up freaking out on me and it was a BIGGGG fight. It lasted until the next day and he punched holes in the walls and ended up calling the guy and trying to see if I cheated on him and the guy lied and said I didn’t say I had a boyfriend when I did... my screensaver was my damn boyfriend lol. So I’m just wondering am I the wrong one?
I also catch him In little lies. I caught him messaging his ex when we first started dating and it wasn’t flirting or anything but I was mad that he hid it from me. It’s little things like that I catch him lying about. Or I I’ll ask him questions and he’ll get weird and not answer them and say I’m crazy for asking. He’s very descreet and I feel like I have to PULL information out of him with 100 questions. It’s just complicated
I’m not sure what to do. Should I stay or leave?? I think I’ll be happier if i get my own place..
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2017.11.10 20:04 LightsmithRay Advice for newcommer
Hi folks, as a newcommer to bi club I've got several questions and looking for advice. I'm 28 male and I'm bi. Alvays been In fact. You know that checking out and fantasing of both cool guys and hot girls, several threesomes during my university years, when I was much more turned on by another guy than a girl.And so on. Quite common story. For last 2.5 years I was living with my ex girl and simultaneously met with my best friend. Once we got drunk with my pal, watched porn and found out ourselfes fooling around in bed with each other. I just loved him as idk an elder brother I never had and so mutual jo was just an emotion expression thing. Cool that he turned out to be open-minded guy so all was fine. It began to happen more often and none of us gave a shit about it. I never felt so happy as I've been that years. But two problems were clouding upon horizon. First. My girl occasionally read my skype logs with him where we were laughing about last weekend together. She freaked out. But after I explaned everything she got calm and tried to overcome her jealousy. At least she understood that I had different feelings toward her and him, so neither of em were less important for this. During our "serious talk"(tm) I've understood that I a)love em both, but in different way b) needed em both equally. And c) I'm fucking fine with it. That's how I came out for myself. But second problem was more ermm problematic. It all happened in Russia. I lived there for that time. I hardly can remember more LGBT-phobic country in the whole word. Its actually fucking live-threatening there to be a bisexual (for locals we are all just gay). So you understand why we had to be descreet about our relationships with my pal. I didnt whant to put him in any danger. Actually I would fucking kill anybody who'd tried to harm him. As a 2m height fit guy with master grade on pistol shooting and 7 years of karate-do, I can say what I say. Newertheless due to political situation about conflict between Ukranine and Russia, I, as a ukranian had to move out of Russia. For a lot of reasons. Before it happened I broke up with my girl due to reasons unconnectd with my bisexuality. And had to leave my pal, cos of his safety reasons. He is a kinda known journalist, and If someone know that he s having relationship with a) man b) ukranian man who doesnt support Crimea annexion, he may have serious trouble. I loved him too much to put through that danger, so I moved away. I still miss him as fuck but now nothing can be done about it. So. Now I live in Ukraine. It's far from ideal about situation here with LGBT but it's much better than in Russia. Aleast you can hug anyone you whant without a threat to be attaked. Well mostly. But well . I need to move on. I feel lonley, miss people I loved and can say noone about my feelings to get more comfort or compassion, cos I literary have no friends here and my parents are too traditional to accept me. Actually I didnt planing coming out ti them unless they get us caught in bed,lol. Seriosly, why I have to? I'm an adult financially independant man, and I can sleep and love whoever I goddamn whant. What thay can do? Throw me outa house? I am the one who pays their bills actually. So, to conclude my longread confession. I know nothing about this country's LGBT-scene. I just have heared anout several gay-bars here. I have no experience of finding a guy to date, cos previous time I was just lucky to find such guy among my friends. (And he vas othervise our relationships straight). Where do you people advice me too look for gay/bi guys here? I m interested more in relationships than just occasional sex. Or there are some code like that thing about earring or smth? How do you mostly find guys to date? From what you d' say I should start with? Thx for attention and sorry for grammar and mistaked. English is not my native and tablet keyboard is awfully small for my big hands(
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2017.06.27 14:27 AcidPunch TL;DR - 22 year old dumps life story in single, long-winded post; asks for help at end.
I'll start by apologizing to anyone reading this or seeing these posts. I'm putting this on my main account because I'm tired of hiding behind some burner account I can just deny and say it's not me and pretend to be anyone else. I want this to be here for anyone to read, and I need to be accountable. Not that I wouldn't deny doing or saying anything I did on that account, but I'm tired of being faceless, wearing some self-made mask. I am who I am, even if I hate who I am and the place I've landed.
I've been hurt so much so many times it's hard to cry anymore. I don't wear my scars, my skin is smooth, wrists unmarked, but it's taken every ounce of my self-control to keep it so. Perhaps under the course of reading all my pathetic whinings you might begin to understand why I wanted to, and why I stopped myself. I still don't know, so at least you'll be able to say you know something I don't, should you solve that enigma before I do. There's a part of me that says "you should be seeing a therapist instead of drafting this up in some word program then posting it online for everyone to see" but I can't afford one, and the place I'm in doesn't really allow that to be done easily. Not in any official sense, not with anyone I'd trust to bear this much to.
My life from an early age has been very unstable. Between the church my parents attended, the schools I've went to, all the problems between them at home and the many, many times my mom moved away from my dad just during their marriage, I can confidently say that they have been incredibly turbulent. I haven't had the pleasure of childhood friends I've had in my life from a young age into my teenage years and into high-school. I've been lucky to have briefly reconnected to a few of them, to still be in contact with a small number of them, but in reality even now I feel the distance, I feel everyone just... leaving. I fear reaching out, trying so hard to maintain a connection after trying to for so long, feeling that these relationships were so one-sided that I feel that they want to drift away, to silently end whatever friendship was there because they don't truly want to be my friend. I'm tired of being the one reaching out, trying to set up hangouts, keeping in contact, and especially getting brushed off and ignored. I'm just so tired of struggling, of holding on to something only I seem to want.
Growing up, me and my sister only got along sometimes. As much as I loved her, as much as I would do anything for her, there were problems. That's honestly to be expected just as the fact of being siblings. I had anger issues, and was emotionally unstable myself. There were a number of times I did things I regret to her. Trying to overpower her or to "subjugate" her. That's what i would call it. There was a time during one of our many summer day... whatever it was. Someplace we'd go every day during the summer, to get us out of the house. She was talking or doing something, I was annoyed and just tried to shut her mouth for her. The adults there pulled us apart, because it looked like I was choking her. And it did, I was just pushing up against her jaw instead of to her neck, I think that was just to get around her biting or licking my hand to get me to pull my hand back. So I don't blame her, the adults there or anything, I just hate myself for doing that. Another time was when we were settling in to my moms grandparent's house farther up north out of the city, she was either annoying me again or just pissing me off. I had her pinned to the bed, trying to shut her up again, by force rather than just saying something. I think I did try to get her to stop by telling her, but for some reason she either didn't or it just wasn't enough for me at the time. Mom walked in, shouted at me to get off her. She told me she was horrified, she saw my dad in me. Of course I resented that, but I didn't do anything. I just hated myself more. Hated that I was becoming just like him, doing what he did to my mom to my sister. After that, I don't recall ever really doing anything to her again. I backed off, I saw the things my dad did and recognized when I was going to do something like that. And stopped myself. I knew it wasn't right. I didn't want to hurt anyone like that, especially not my sister, the only one along with me on this fucking insane ride that we were both going on with our parents steering the ship. If I could, I'd go back in time and change all that. I'd be better to her. She didn't do anything to me. I was horrible to her, and I was older. I was supposed to be there for her, show her what to do. but instead I caved in, I couldn't handle anything, especially not the responsibility of an older brother.
I tried in high school, but of course it was too little, too late. All I ended up doing was maybe getting more respect from other people, but not her. I punched one of her friends in the gut for calling her stupid, even if he was chuckling and meant it more teasingly, just on principle that no one talked about her that way. He respected me more after that, and it was probably the only thing I did that I got praise from my dad for. The only thing I think that I did of my own volition that might have been a marginally good thing to do. Maybe that's the only thing I wouldn't change, even if it's something violent I did. I didn't have anything against him or anything, we knew each other and were somewhat closer. I just maybe wish it had more of a positive impact on my sister than... than the apparent nothing it did. I tried my best. I kept my distance, let her do her thing, not be some overbearing brother that she clearly didn't need. She was strong all by herself. I'm sure there's plenty of things she'd gotten herself out of in the three years she spent in high school with me.
One of the differences we had in high school was that she was seeing people, whereas I just... kept to myself. Hung out with friends, kept my crushes a secret, never really... did anything. I remember that she had at least three boyfriends over the course of high school, something I envied, deep down. One of her boyfriends got her to sneak out of the house, once. Maybe another time, but I can't recall. All I remember is one night at the house, my mom wondered where my sister was. None of us knew, none of us paid attention. We heard the front door shut, but everyone had assumed it was someone else, someone heading out to do something outside quickly, like take out the trash. Maybe an hour later we realized she had left. Everyone was a mess, my mom especially for obvious reasons. Later we find out she had snuck out in the most obvious way possible, out the front door, but it had worked. It was the perfect testament to just how loose we were, or to how little we cared about her in her eyes, possibly. We eventually tracked her down, picked her up early the next morning. I can't remember exactly when we found out or even how, just that eventually we did, that she had called or something and we picked her up at a gas station somewhere in the neighborhood she was in, a number of blocks deeper in the city. I brought this bat with me, just in case this boyfriend of hers or someone was there. I was worried sick and hating myself for not keeping better eye on her. For not caring enough. When we picked her up, I came prepared to beat the living shit out of her so-called boyfriend. I came ready to fight, to get her back and safe again at any cost. That said, there's a part of me that's happy she was there alone at the station. It's one less regret I'd have, I'm sure of it.
Something you have to understand is that my dad is extremely smart. There's something I remember him telling me, a couple of times that had stuck. In getting his degree in architecture, he told me that he was the only one in his graduating class to actually complete the course's final. Because of this, he was approached by the school, and told that if they included his score in whatever system they used that half of his class wouldn't graduate. So his story is that his grade wasn't included in the curve, someone else got valedictorian or something, but if his score had been included, he would be the #1 student in the class and half of the rest would have failed because no one else completed the final. I very well realize this could be the biggest load of bullshit he's ever dished out, but he's intelligent and dedicated enough that I believed him. I still do, to a degree, but for a while I've questioned just about everything he's said to me. I think this just necessitates reiterating.
I think it's very fair to say that my dad is the source of a lot of my family's pain, not just my own. To only include myself is not just victimizing myself but not acknowledging my mothers pain, my sister's pains, and the pain of the rest of my family. However, I don't think it's an unfair statement either. I'm certain that anyone who knows my family, my dad, and me would say that a lot of his abuse and hatred was directed at me. And that's not to say that he never did anything for me. He's taught me a great many things. But it doesn't come close to the number of times he's hit me, threatened me, threatened not just the safety of my friends but the safety of my friends families, embarassed me and openly abused me in front of friends and family, in private and in public. I shake at the memories as I type this. it's here where I question whether I can even continue, much less finish this and post it, but I don't know what else to do.
I'm no saint. I've done plenty of wrong things. I've lashed out in anger, in pain, I've hurt people, both knowingly and unknowingly. I could have handled things better, I could have done things differently, especially when it comes to my dad. Fact is, I didn't. So maybe I deserve some of it, and I'm sure there's someone out there who could convince me I deserved all of it.
I don't know where to begin as far as relating even one story of this abuse. I can hardly stand even thinking of all the things. A few things stand out. Things had gotten so bad between me and my mom, because during our visits with my dad he of course would talk about her. We would talk to him about what she did, certain things she did that rubbed us the wrong way, and that was his ammunition, his fuel to turn me and my sister against her. Painting what she did as emotional manipulation, abuse, the like, whatever he could. She wasn't perfect, no one was. But he convinced me she was second only to the devil himself, that she was the one tearing apart our family, even though the night before she finally left him was a night as bad as I ever saw it, where I saw my mom against a cabinet pinned there by him, over something about the laptop she was using at the time. it was right before he went out of town in the morning. somehow, she managed that night to keep some sort of peace, because the next day we packed up everything and got out before dark. Somehow, after that he managed to turn us against her, make her the villain. Things got bad between me and her to the point where she just told me I couldn't live there anymore. I tried to do a few things but realized I didn't have the money to do anything but move in with my dad. I thought it was a good move at the time, even though I was still scared of him, having learned to be afraid of his temper.
There was a day in high school, driving there in the morning, he held me back, wanted to talk to me in the car or something while my sister went in. We were there early, at the church right next to the school for a church thing called Seminary. It's an LDS thing. He told me that he recognized that I was a lot more sensitive to things. Realized he was possibly being a little too harsh on me. He promised me that he'd try more, try to be easier, to talk with me more and understand how I feel. He promised me... and I was so happy. I remember being so hopeful. It meant change for me, that I could maybe actually have a good, healthy relationship with him. I wouldn't have to be so scared to talk to him. Fast forward a year. I had to move in, I had nowhere else to go, I didn't think to move in with any friends or even attempt to get a place of my own, everything was so expensive and I couldn't bear the thought of being a burden to my friends and their families. I didn't know it then, but the next ten months would be the worst in my life thus far.
That was in August of 2014. Come the beginning of December, something changed. I wasn't doing enough at the house, getting enough done in the backyard, around the house, cleaning up and working on the various projects he always had going, taking care of his garden, things of that nature. He was pissed that night. He told me I had until sometime in the middle of December to get a job. I was going to pay rent and a portion of groceries in January. If I didn't get a job by then, he'd throw all of my things onto the curb and locked out of the house. I could find somewhere else to live, maybe go crawling back to my mom, he suggested, in the same breath reiterating just how unlikely that she would even accept me again. So of course, I panicked. I went out jobhunting, hitting the pavement about 6am, about the time or shortly after he left for work every morning. A few days in, I was a mental case, worrying to the bone about finding something. I reached out as descreetly as I could to my mom, calling her and explaining things. We arranged a way to meet and for her to help me find a job. She came prepared with a few leads around the side of town my dad lived, if a bit far. All I had at the time was my bike. The day I spent with her was good, I got a lot done with her help, and it was the best I had felt. I genuinely smiled for the first time in what must have been since I moved in, and even felt anxious about going back to my dad again. I knew it was bad, but I didn't know any better. I knew to keep me being in contact, much less actually going out and calling for her help a secret.
Turns out, it was all for nothing. Maybe I wasn't as thorough, maybe he ended up listening in on the other line when i did call her on the house phone at the time, but he found out. It wasn't long after we were both in the same room later that day that he asked me about, as casually as he would the weather, how my day with my mom had went. Not only did I just not want to lie, I knew doing so would only dig myself in a deeper hole with him than I already was in, just for reaching out to her. So I was honest, said it went well. Then, for the next three or four hours, while preparing and eating dinner, he mocked me, yelled at me, completely ridiculed me for asking for help, calling me a "pussy" and a "bitch" for asking for help, especially from my mom, to stop sucking on your goddamn mother's fucking tits, your nineteen years old for fucks sake. So what if I was panicking, or a nervous wreck, this was supposed to scare me, maybe i'd finally get off my fucking ass and do something myself. After that night, I'm fairly certain i ended up not talking to my mom again, going back to the radio silence that had persisted since I moved in. In the end, I landed a job at a Walmart down the road a little before his imposed deadline, after all the drug tests and applications and bureaucracy.
A month or so later, I was working a late shift, from 4pm to 1am. I liked my job, I got along well with my coworkers, enough to say they were my friends. I was in a long-distance relationship with a nice girl I liked chatting with. I would stay up after work talking with her, for at least an hour or two. I'd watch some youtube videos of some youtubers I was following or something on Netflix, close to 4am in the morning is when I'd get tired enough to actually fall asleep. I would get up later, of course, around maybe noon or so, one o'clock. closer to or after one pm if I had stayed longer the previous night working, as I did every so often. Eventually he found out that I was staying up after work to do these things, and he just seemed especially livid that I had a "girlfriend"(as I'm sure he would say it sarcastically or mockingly, insistent it wasn't real at all) that I was wasting my time with. So the day after my next night working, he comes into my room, banging a pot with a spatula or something at about 8 or 9am the next morning. I had stayed later that morning to help get some things done. And with my nightly routine before bed, I didn't get much sleep of course. And he hadn't been very quiet before that point either, so I was already partially awake when he had come in making noise. He acted that what he was doing was perfectly reasonable, acceptable, and expected. Someone who knew they were right, or at least wouldn't be challenged. He made a point of telling me that it wasn't my room, it was his room. Why? It was his house, he was letting me stay there, in this room. That wasn't enough to make it mine. Prior to this, he told me, he just assumed they were working me hard, and that's why I slept so late. And it wasn't that they weren't, but learning I was staying up instead of going directly to bed as if I could fall asleep instantaneously was just a sin. So he woke me up exactly 8 hours after my shift ended. Enough for me to sleep. And that's when I was expected to wake up from then on, because fuck me. It was his house, his rules, I knew what he expected so I better follow no matter what, for no more reason than because he said so and he would beat the shit out of me if I didn't.
June 6th of 2015, I moved out, into a studio apartment with a coworker at the time. Looking back, I felt like Andy in the Shawshank Redemption, having to endure all that fucking shit and having to in the end crawl through a literal shithole to get out. May was worse, trying to arrange to move out and everything. I did my best to leave things on good terms, and it seemed to work. Dad even helped me move out, despite the fact that the days leading up to it were very strained, not a calm or kind word being exchanged. It was only after moving all the boxes of my things into the small apartment that he hugged me and told me he loved me. I hoped this would hold up, that maybe we could reconcile, maybe get to a good place where we could at least pretend things were okay, that I could pretend he was a great father.
In the coming months, there was a time where I didn't talk much to him, or my mom, or anyone. I lived there and just tried to just be happy where I was, and it worked. I finally had room to think for once. I wasn't so bogged down with stress that I actually went on dates. I met people, made friends in real life and online. I started actually noticing things, like just the fact I was still depressed and dissatisfied with my life, despite things going so much better than they ever had before. I questioned myself for once, digging deeper into myself and asking myself why I was so depressed. I came to realize I was transgender, that I identified as female and was still very much attracted to females. And for a time, this helped immensely, being able to realize my depression was dysphoria, that I was more dissatisfied with my looks, expression, and lifestyle than I realized before. And I even did my best to start realizing my dream of streaming, doing YouTube. The laptop I had then is the same I use now, it's not good at running a game and recording software at the same time, even if it's the only two things running at all. I needed better but I did my best, even if I didn't upload anything. It was good for a bit.
I had actually lost my job a month later, was scrambling to find something again, had enough saved to last another month or two, but I had definitely made a point of not talking or going to see my dad during that time. I felt stressed again, and even when i was visiting and just eating a dinner with them again, I felt like a stranger, I felt stressed. Right back in the state I had been before. I knew i couldn't handle any of that at the time, so I said so, kept my distance. Eventually I did find something, but I still kept my distance, still very aware I wasn't comfortable being around him, wanting to wait until I was comfortable to re-engage. I recieve a message from him one night, simply asking if he should come over. I replied quickly "no." There was only a few minutes of relief before there was a knock at the door. He came anyway. Berated me for just standing in the doorway behind the door, asking whether I was going to invite him in or come out to talk. I didn't want him inside, it wouldn't ever be the same, so I stepped out despite knowing it was likely just as dangerous. He asks me if I need a lesson in manners again, and I knew he meant more to beat it into me. So of course I shook my head. I didn't say anything to him after that, just nodding and shaking my head in response to whatever he said. He gave me my key back, one I had given to him when I had moved into my apartment, telling him he was welcome. He made a harsh point of saying he didn't need it anymore. I don't know if he had been in there when me and my roommate weren't home, but I can say I was mildly relieved knowing he didn't have it. Just from this one thing, I was driven into hysterics. I felt so violated, very betrayed, and so unsafe and insecure I had actually spent my two days off not sleeping, walking around absently in my apartment while my roommate worked, ranting and raving and yelling to myself at my dad, about him, breaking down completely. There wasn't any way it didn't affect my work. Even my roommate noticed I was completely stressed out, and eventually I explained to him what happened after he asked. Luckily it was only a couple days, I moved on, got better, got back into things.
November of that year, 2015, I lost that job. I earned enough to pay the rent and bills the next month, but I had truthfully stopped going to that job. A manager there reminded me a lot of my dad, seemed to treat me the same way, expect things and treat me differently than everyone else there. Admittedly, I was the only male cashier there, but it was to the point that I couldn't take anymore. I lost whatever passion I had for the job because of that manager, who wound up getting fired shortly after I unofficially quit. I don't feel good about it, to this day. I should have at least put in some form of a two weeks notice, instead of just not showing up. I had seen a couple other male cashier's get hired, heard about one before me, and all wound up doing the same as me, albeit much sooner. The other cashier's were nice, very helpful and great to work with. I regret not holding it for at least a bit longer, but between things going on at the complex (new landlords, rent was getting hiked even though we were in a lease with the previous landlord, they weren't honoring it obviously) and the stress at the job, I let things go and wound up moving back in with my mom on New Years Eve.
The entirety of 2016 feels like an utter shitshow, and I just prefer to not remember anything that happened. I was originally supposed to just go there, find a job, work and save up enough to rent out an apartment again. In under a month. From the get-go, I told my mom this was unrealistic, it was going to take two months, if not longer than that. She insisted, and I couldn't refuse, so I went with it. A month turned into two, to three, to six, to nine, to the whole year. I got a few jobs in the year, working at a movie theatre for a month, getting a job selling a certain brand of knives that was commission based and lasted just as long as the theatre, before eventually getting hired at Amazon later that year. I held that job through till the middle of January this year before getting laid off. I dated some more during that year, in June/July before landing at Amazon, and another during October and November. The latter seemed to just be... much more damaging than anything. I dated a guy I'll call Matt. Matt was transgender, just like me, though female-assigned at birth, whereas I was male-assigned. It seemed to go well, we initially met through a group thing that was very last minute with their roommate and best friend who I'll call Tom. We didn't have sex, however, something that I just wasn't too interested in doing soon and what Matt was very much so, despite reassuring me it was okay if we didn't. I felt it was much more important than a first-date thing, and it was put off for a long time. It was about end of November, around my birthday, when I get news that Matt was admitted to the ER for an attempted suicide. I arrange to see him, having to arrange a ride through one of his friends who was going to see him on a particular day. He spends most of a week there, I visit on his penultimate day there. He seems to be doing well, if a little more exhausted and stressed at being deadnamed and misgendered ever since getting there. I didn't know it then but it'd be the last pleasant, loving interaction we had.
I come to find out the reason he tried to commit suicide was because I was blue-balling him, summed up to me that it was just my fault he tried to kill himself. I couldn't have been more surprised at the news, he seemed to treat me no differently while I was there, visiting him in the hospital despite me evidently being the one who put him in there. I also, on the way back with aforementioned friend, had asked if it was okay to stop by a grocery store near me to get groceries as I was still only able to use my bike at the time and needed food again. She said it was, and I made sure that she wasn't just saying yes to be polite, trying to make a point to say that if she needed to get home sooner or just didn't want to, she could say no. I did also forget to give her gas money as well, and it was these two things that also contributed to Matt being very angry with me. It all seemed so sudden and abrupt. I don't blame him for being upset about the grocery store and gas money, I said I would give him money to pass along to the friend next time we met, but he made it clear that wasn't the problem. From what I understand - and I say that to mean that I possibly still to this day don't fully understand what all was going on - the fact that I even arranged to have his friend go out of her way to pick me up and drop me off was horrible, unnecessary. Unbecoming, something. It comes up again whether or not we were ever going to have sex. I couldn't commit to a response as to whether we would or not, I felt not only pressured but that just doing so immediately after what had happened would be inappropriate. I have no idea whether it would be or not, but my response was that we wouldn't soon, at any rate. I message the friend, apologizing for not giving them gas money that night and also for pressuring them into letting me get my groceries. I can say I didn't see what was wrong with it then, but I wanted to mend things at least with them. I told them I planned to give Matt the gas money the next time we met, so to expect that sometime in the future. This will be important later.
It wasn't at all easy hearing the reason your then-boyfriend tried to kill themselves because you wouldn't have sex with them before advancing or even asking. Maybe I was completely clueless and he had been advancing and asking and I didn't even realize. I can't ever really be sure now, because shortly after that things ended very abruptly. The next time we saw each other, it was for him to give me back some of my things I left at his place, and for me to give him some money to pass along. That went poorly, he had told me he'd be there at a certain time and didn't arrive until I had to press him about it two to three hours later, after which he didn't even look at me while we traded. Not a word was spoken, he just held out the bag, I held out a bill, we traded and he left. I found myself blocked shortly afterwards on the program we usually communicated on.
Despite him stating prior to this that he no longer had the desire to sleep with me, I know I probably wouldn't have refused if his advances ever got through to me while we were still together. I think there's still a part of me that loves him, that earnestly hopes he's gotten better, maybe found someone to be happy with. A part of me that would accept him again and be willing to give another shot at trying to be in a relationship with him. As much as I think there's no way in hell that'd happen, especially from the message I got in about February or March of this year. I get a very harsh message from Matt, berating me, insulting me and professing again how much he, Tom, and his friend want nothing to do with me and hate and despise me. I only assume that it's in response to the message I sent his friend, since she didn't immdediately reply and only assume she just got to seeing the message at about that time, told Matt about it and he proceeded to unblock me only to send that message, then re-block me, leaving me no chance to reply or even ask what brought on the message out of the blue. If he somehow sees this, I wouldn't be surprised to get another message, in all honesty. I just hope that it's with intent of back and forth discussion rather than a one-sided display of hate and aggression. At any rate, that so far has been that, and perhaps that is all that will ever happen in my life concerning Matt.
Ever since this January, I've been living in this farming town, on a farm (wow, what a surprise) that's owned by my grandma and her husband. I owe my grandmother from unpaid rent last year in 2016 during the time I wasn't employed and not earning enough in the small jobs I worked to pay rent completely, only earning enough to actually buy my own food to sustain myself in the interim. I work on the farm to pay that, as well as rent and board just for living here, but it's limited to 20 hours a week, and due to my anxiety, depression, dysphoria, and all around homesickness, I rarely hit that cap, falling below and as such can't pay my bills on time. They're patient and willing to work with me, but I'm working on the farm without passion, and I need to get something greater, but I feel so stuck. I just feel like such a waste most days. I want to keep pursuing trying to record things for youtube, or even attempt to stream now and again, but my laptop can't handle it, not to mention the internet not being able to reliably stream with. I have a strong passion for Magic: The Gathering that isn't doing me any good out here, with no one to even play with, not to mention talk to about it. I've been doing creative writing with other people for a number of years and would love to write for any sort of money, especially if it would be for Wizards of the Coast for Magic. I've spent dozens of hours making my own cards in Magic Set Editor, going so far as to try to design my own custom set. I've been wanting to get into video game design for longer still, but the vision I've had for that isn't as clear as what I've mentioned till now. Until I can pay the remaining $1000 to my grandma and get enough savings to move back to the city for my own place again, I just feel so stuck here. I found a kitten a week ago, tried to take care of it, going as far to borrow a feeding bottle and an alternative milk replacer for a day before getting an actual KMR, feeding it every day, trying to play with it and keep it happy... and it died on Sunday. I just feel heartbroken, and hopeless all over again. I hoped to take care of this kitten, watch it grow up, to possibly have a companion here that I can take with me into the city, to help keep me motivated, to give me something else to focus on to encourage me to do well, to earn enough to take care of not only myself but it as well.
I'd be lying if I said I didn't hope that some random stranger out there would help me out of this hole, but that's really just a Jane Eyre complex for you. I'd give anything to get my life going again, but I don't feel I can stay in this place much longer. I'd like to go to college for Creative Writing to possibly go through Hasbro to work for Wizards directly, or Game Design to possibly even design cards and mechanics... this is all just me spouting my pipedreams as well, but... quite frankly I don't know what else to do, who to turn to. I still need to transition, to get set up in a job, in a career, and I'm not in a position to do so myself yet, and it's killing me inside. So here's to the nigh non-existant chance something good comes of this. At least I got all this off my chest, which is still good. If you made it this far, you're a kind soul, thank you so much for taking the time to read all this. I've officially stayed up all night writing this. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading. I hope you have a great day, that you achieve your dreams and make for yourself a wonderful life.
submitted by AcidPunch
to offmychest [link] [comments]
2017.04.05 23:05 SydtheSnake How I dropped my dNA250 for a starter device
For the past 2 years I've spent time and money on keeping up to date with mods, RBAs and tanks. I realized today I haven't hit my VaporShark DNA250 with Smok TFV12 in three days because the Minnow and Mr. Salt-E juice is just a better hit and just way more satisfying to me. It's changed my whole word when it comes to descreet satisfying nic hits. If anyone is trying to get anyone off of cigs it's really the best bet.
Can't believe how I spent at least a hundred a month on juice alone and now with wicks and a bottle that lasts me three weeks I'm down to spending $30 a month
submitted by SydtheSnake
to electronic_cigarette [link] [comments]
2016.08.08 16:38 kekskopf1001 1000€ for Gaming in Germany
What will you be doing with this PC? Be as specific as possible, and include specific games or programs you will be using.
Only for playing games like CS GO, DOTA2, Elite Dangerous and some Indie Steam games like FTL or Nuclear Throne
What is your maximum budget before rebates/shipping/taxes?
When do you plan on building/buying the PC? Note: beyond a week or two from today means any build you receive will be out of date when you want to buy.
Within two weeks.
What, exactly, do you need included in the budget? (ToweOS/monitokeyboard/mouse/etc)
Tower, Win7, 22" monitor, Keyboard with music control buttons
Which country (and state/province) will you be purchasing the parts in? If you're in US, do you have access to a Microcenter location?
If reusing any parts (including monitor(s)/keyboard/mouse/etc), what parts will you be reusing? Brands and models are appreciated.
Monitor: Fujitsu Siemens Mouse X22-W1, Mouse:Logitech G400 Headsets: Sennheiser PX 100 - IIi, Beyerdynamic DT 990 250 Ohm which I would like to upgrade with an external microphone.
Will you be overclocking? If yes, are you interested in overclocking right away, or down the line? CPU and/or GPU?
I don't know much about overclocking so no.
Are there any specific features or items you want/need in the build? (ex: SSD, large amount of storage or a RAID setup, CUDA or OpenCL support, etc)
SSD with 250gb and a storage HDD with 1 TB, two monitors(already have one) so I want a good gaming monitor with 22+", someone told me I should get a 144 hz monitor for CS GO. Mid-tower and very quiet.
Do you have any specific case preferences (Size like ITX/microATX/mid-towefull-tower, styles, colors, window or not, LED lighting, etc), or a particular color theme preference for the components?
Mid Tower, descreetly looking
Do you need a copy of Windows included in the budget? If you do need one included, do you have a preference?
I prefer Windows 7 but will switch to Windows 10 if it is better for gaming.
Extra info or particulars:
I posted here before but the only reply I got told me I should take the build with a grain of salt. So I waited for another month to repost here.
submitted by kekskopf1001
to buildapcforme [link] [comments]
2011.12.14 13:25 Lickemstick 32/m Womanizer. How will I recover from a lifetime of poor choices?
Starting off I'd like to say a few things. First off, I'd like to mention that all the women I've dated for longer than a month were all good women. They were all good in their own way. If I were to combine the best parts from them and eliminate the worst, I'd have the utopian female companion.
Secondly, I'd also like to note that, until recently, I was a, completely, bad person to women. I didn't deserve most of the caring women I was blessed with. Although not physicaly abusive, I was unfaithful, uncaring, immature, demeaning and an all-around "bad" guy. I'd like to think I've learned from all my mistakes and have grown in not only, my emotional stature but in my ability to empathize as well.
I'm not an overly-attractive man. I've never considered myself as comely. I'm not fat, of muscular build, bald, blue eyed, average hight and weight, well groomed and I possess good hygiene. I'm better than average, where it counts. I have no butt to speak of. I don't work out but it looks like I do. I have tattoos and piercings where only I can see, for the most part. I try to not dress trendy or care much for adornments.
I, almost never, get embarrassed. I can, and have, dropped trow in the middle of a crowded bar (mostly sober). Public urination, doctors visits and the like have never been moments of apprehension for me. I'm considered brutally honest and blunt. I don't seek confrontation, normally, nor do I back down from it. I try to be unfailingly honest to everyone, almost to a fault. Think Kevin Spacey but in his early 30's.
I've been told that I'm very adept at psychologically manipulating situations and people. People tend to think I'm smart and funny. Smarter than I am, unfortunately. When I interact socially with people my thought process, generally, is as follows: 1. Who is this person? A. Do I know them? a. Comfort-ability, aquaintence, friendship or stranger? B. Appearance. 2. What do they/I want? A. Information, comfort-ability, friendship, dominance or cessation of contact. 3. My level of attraction (when interacting with females). A. Am I looking to "hook up" or increase my friendship network? 4. Their level of perceived attraction. A. Their level of coherence and intelligence. B. Their general well being/mental state. C. Are they exhibiting subconscious attraction tells? 5. Information building or conversation transitioning. A. Active nonverbal communication a. Dominant/submissive gestures and eye contact. b. Dominant/submissive posturing or positioning. c. Touching (Haptics). 6. Resolution.
The first 4 parts of the above appendix usually happen in that order with an average person. If someone jumps out at me in a weird way, i.e. I'm extremely attracted to them or they seem odd in a particular way the steps and the sub-steps usually change to varying degrees.
The last step usually results in some type of end-game proposal or scenerio dependant on what type of interaction took place.
I never used to believe in monogomy. I've always believed that it was alright to share my body with more than one woman at a time. Physical relationships mean quite little to me, even today. Subconsciously, I've always known that it takes more than physical attraction and moments of sexual intimacy to sustain a meaningful relationship. I could share my body with many different people at the same time, relatively, yet mentally be monogomous to the one I was dating. I did this without any remorse or ill will. I tried to not get caught. I knew I didn't want to lose the person I was dating. I knew they didn't feel the same way I did and wouldn't empathize.
It was only until later in life that I realized that not only do they not only understand this aspect of me but if I wanted a relationship with anyone to last, I had to stop. So, stop I did. I was unconsciously tailoring my lifestyle towards settling down.
Starting at age 14. Brandi was the lucky one to be my first. Average of looks and intelligence but outgoing and fun to be around. We had our first and only encounter at her sisters appartment on her sofa. Beavis and Butthead laughably playing on the television in the background.
Same age a month or two later I was sent away to a group facility for misbehaved youth. It was a coed arrangement. I met a young lady there named Lacy, she snuck down to where the boys slept. We were quiet and finished quickly.
I only got to interact with Lacy one time. Shortly after our time together I was sent away further down the corrections river to a more permanent facility. This place, also, being coed. For the life of me I can't remember her name but in my 5 months there I was the recipient of some hands on learning. Although not sex, it was very intimate.
On returning home from my stint in the corrections system I realized that a lot of my life had changed. I didn't think the same as I did before going in. I was used to dealing with abusive and threatening people all the time. I was quiet and stuck to myself for the most part. Evidently Becky found this attractive. We dated for 4 years, if not more.
While dating Becky I strayed on 4 different occasions. The first 3 were with Adriann. She was a friend of a friend who lived in a duplex atop yet another friend. Akward and descreet was the name of that game. The last happened when I decided to drop in on a party that some of my brother's friends were attending. For the life of me I can't remember her name. We coupled on the back lawn of the house at about 3 in the morning. I've had better nights.
While working at a local gas station, still dating Becky, I met girl named Jennifer. Me and Jennifer hit it off famously. We got vaguely intimate and I knew I could go further with her so things with me and Becky deteriorated. Becky suspected something was afoot. She decided to make an unannounced appearance at the store I worked, met Jennifer, packed my shit the same night.
Jennifer lasted about 3-4 years. I can't remember a lot of it (turned 21 then). Regardless, I cheated on her a grip of times. Once with a different girl named Becky and her 2 friends... at the same time... in the same car... in a cemetary... the other 2 were sisters. Another few times with Jocelyn. She was rediculously hot and equally bat shit crazy. Once with some police officer's wife with an unknown identy. Again with a 60+ year old lady I drove home from the bar. I'm sure there's more times than that but the events elude me. Perhaps it's a good thing the memories are repressed.
Jennifer cheated on me and moved away to marry the guy. I took a 1 year break from all things related to the opposite sex. Jennifer hurt me real bad. Although I strayed my heart was always her's. Her's, on the other hand, was not mine.
I moved away from my small town stomping grounds around 23 years of age. I went from 3,000-7,000 people in the nearest town to around 200,000 people nearby. There I met another Becky. Skinny, twig of a thing with bad acne scars but attractive none the less. We were intimate for all of 2-3 weeks. In those 2-3 weeks with I met Dana.
Dana was butter-face in my opinion. Dumb as a bag of hammers but sincere and about as nice as a person could be. We started dating, simply, because she wouldn't leave my house. "A" for effort but desperate seeming at the time.
Things were rocky with Dana in the begining. So rocky in fact that me and the previous Becky decided to take a road trip to where I was from and consumate it at my parents house. Things with me and Becky soon evaporated once I returned home.
Me and Dana got back together and dated for about 2 years. In those 2 years things were happy for the most part. She had a rabid sexual appetite and the willingness to please that made her lack of intelligence and ugly mug almost tolerable. I only cheated on her twice. On both occasions I don't remember their names and only vaguely recall the the circumstances. Both were from the bar and done with as soon as they started.
I started to realize that things with me and Dana weren't going well towards the end. I told her as much and that she should try and find someone else. Knowing her clingly nature I reassured her we could still "hang out" until she did. Didn't take her long. I have to admit that once she was gone I really did miss her. She was such a sweetheart.
Insert about 3-4 months of celebacy.
A few dates that resulted in nothing.
Along comes Wendi. We met at a local bar where we danced and had a smashing good time. Sucked face all the way to the local diner afterwards. Numbers were exchanged and we parted. Waited a bit, called her and decided to meet up at her house (half hour away). Scrog'd a few times then I met her friend (name eludes me) and we had a one nighter. I end up telling Wendi. She considers it a speed bump and we're on to the next 2 years of good times and monogamy. At the very tail end of those 2 years I meet Angela at my work. We had a weird thing one night at my house. Later she has to go to rehab for barfing up her food so we never did anything else. Wendi, is currently oblivious.
A month or so later I meet Jessy at my work. We have an on going 2 week fling. She stayed over at my house and knew about Wendi. Wendi, still being a half hour away, was at a disadvantage to realize what was going on. However, on a random day she decided to come over unannounced she came to find Jessy asleep, topless in my bed. Words were yelled, shit was broken, Wendi left. Jesse soon left too. About 2 weeks more was all I got out of her before my depressed ass got to be too much for her. After all, I still only loved Wendi. Jesse was only filling a void where travel time had created.
It was at this time, this very moment in my rather short life, that I came to realize that cheating on people had very profound and undesirable consequences. I, thusly, ammended my actions towards polygamy.
After this I'm single for relatively long time. I meet Jessica at the bar one night. She's a mother of 2 and a hard worker. I'm playing the daddy role. She turns out to be an abusive drunk.
Now is my time to shine. I rack up about 20-30 random one night stands in the ensuing few years.
Now I'm 29 and I meet Amanda. Amanda is a pretty, dark haired mother of 3 boys. I'm playing the daddy role again. Lasts for about 5 months if I recall correctly. She decides to move 600 miles away. End of Amanda.
Another 2 years of meaningless encounters.
Come into a somewhat large some of money.
Insert Sarah. Sarah was too hot, 22, brainy as can be, fun to be around, and a whole lotta fucked up in the head. Like weirdly. Like Narcolepsy, hypochondria, bypolar, alcoholic, drug addict. Guessed she made up for it by being everything else I needed in a woman. She uses me up and all my money as well. After about 5 months she dips when I can no longer buy her the fuel for her party machine. I fell for her hard. I loved before I was even aware. Was odd and a bit surreal because it doesn't usually happen like that for me. But as bitter as it was it was equally short so the scars are only superficial.
Present. Single. 2 months after Sarah and still doing Meth. Crushing all the once open opportunities I had because I let someone introduce me to something I thought I was strong enough to avoid or handle at the least. Well, I'll still be up for another day but I realize you're bored with reading my ramblings.
Help me make sense of any of this. How do I recover? How do I find meaningful people to fill my life with?
submitted by Lickemstick
to ihaveissues [link] [comments]
2011.10.05 01:38 SociallyIneptLady Derpy lady in search of dating confidence and advice on whether or not to stick with ex
I am in a rough spot right now. I hope this doesn't turn into tl;dr but here goes.
I am 22/f, recent college grad with a boring but surprisingly decent job. Most of my friends are still in school. I am an immense nerd--not even a hipster nerd. Just a regular nerd. I'm into comics (I evened interned at Marvel during my college career!) and want to become a professional editor in the industry someday. I am also a voracious consumer of science fiction (particularly shows like Doctor Who and all the Star Treks) as well as Victorian literature (not super into steampunk though. Give me long, forlorn passages meandering in no particular direction! I can deal with all of that!). I'm no stunner, but I'm not terrible looking, or so I hear. I posted in amiugly
under a different alt a while back and most people said I was in the 6s, mostly due to my plainness, my bad haircut, and the extra pounds I need to lose (though in general, people complimented my shape! which was very nice of them!).
It was been almost a month and I have lost 7 pounds! As of this morning, I am not overweight according to my BMI! I have a good 15 pounds before I am at the perfect weight for my height but I am dedicated to getting there.
I have no fucking idea how to talk to boys and I don't even know if I should try.
Two years ago I started dating my ex. He became very depressed and that undiagnosed depression ate away at his life and his personality. He treated me very poorly in that time--ignoring me, putting me down, ignoring every holiday (including my birthday, and then he got mad that I was upset that he ignored my birthday) and college graduation. He deliberately avoided spending any time with my family or friends because he felt uncomfortable around people. I broke up with him this last May and he finally started getting his shit together. A month later we started talking again. Ever since then, he's become motivated, outgoing, friendly, and so much more kind. He wants to get back together and I've been putting some real thought into it.
The problem is that he is 1/3rd of my dating experience. As far as time goes, he's 1/2 of it. I am painfully shy around boys. I was a fat kid and my dad was pretty nasty to me growing up about my appearance, so I got the idea that I was a hideous disgusting beast-lady when really I was a plain but fairly pleasant person. I know that if I got back with my ex, it would not be because I didn't know how to talk to other boys, though. He's great and for the first time in so long I feel genuine love and compassion for him. However, I don't want this hanging over my head forever. I want to be with him, but I don't want to do so if there is a huge risk he will turn back into a massive douche, and I don't want to always attack myself in my head when it comes to guys.
In the interest of being up front and honest, I've talked with him about all of this and told him that I want to become more comfortable with myself and learn to talk to guys who haven't known me forever. If he finds someone else, that is perfectly fair. He said that he was fine with whatever makes me the most comfortable. My questions are:
1) Have any of you got back with an ex and it actually worked out instead of crashing and burning horribly?
2) Is it the dumbest skank thing ever to still want validation from dudes when my ex is here trying to give me validation?
3) Is it possible to try to date very very slowly without coming off as a tease/the most damaged goods in the history of all time?
4) How do I meet guys now that I am not in college? I was never a fan of partying, but a long time ago I tried OKCupid but the only guys that messaged me were dudes a decade older than me looking for "descreet college gurl pussy" & etc. :/ I am not exaggerating, it was mostly guys older than my dad looking for nothing but sex and I know that while many women and men can handle casual hookups, I don't think I'd be cool with myself.
Sorry for the immense wall of text and I hope I don't come off as a total dickhead. Also edited for formatting.
submitted by SociallyIneptLady
to relationship_advice [link] [comments]