...and the first thing he did was say, "Thank you for telling me." Then he went into the kitchen and did the dishes, and started cooking dinner. The next day he had to leave early and he shouted behind him, "If you see a mess, don't clean it up!"
What a stand-up dude. No confrontation, no anger, no denial. Just, "Okay, and let's do better from here on out."
go jogging you fuck. It substantially improves your mental health. Yeah it's cold. They make worm clothes. Run in them.
You don't hate people. You just got rejected by them for so long that you tell you tell yourself that. Get back to work at finding friends. It's a life long project.
Ugh yeah that small thing is valid to be upset about but I think youre just obsessing over it to avoid the GIANT THING TO BE UPSET ABOUT
Basically I've yet to find a therapist who can outsmart my bullshit. I need to be reigned in because I can really convince people of the excuses I make for myself.
I know how smug that sounds. It's just true.
I was raised by neglectful drug addicts and never had guidance. (Edit: I'm not an addict, I have a nice job and try to be a good person). I now I'm just trying to find a touch stone. I want to be really fuckin seen and helped. But I'm goddamn persuasive. And inherently manipulative. What's a good therapy for that?
Edit: fun fact- I disagree that the type of therapy I'm asking for is wrong to want. And you are unlikely to convince me otherwise.
Edit after waking up to 500 comments: fuck. Keeping this up for people who resonated with my request. Ill be turning off notifications because damn some of you can confidently give very bad advice.
Thank you to helpful commenters who actually answered my question!
So, this is an incident that happened about 18 months ago that destroyed a long term friendship. Ive been thinking about it a lot, and want to know if IATA
I played D&D with my best friend (F), his wife (W), and a few other friends. We played in the conference room of a hotel, but sometimes had to play in their flat if the room was booked up. This happened around Xmas 2018.
Their flat was incredibly small and we struggled to fit everyone in. We ordered pizza and after I finished, I put my empty box under my seat to keep it out of the way. I accidentally forgot about it (I never had before).
Next game night, we played in a storage area instead, which was much bigger/better. However, my friend said that W had banned us from playing in the flat because someone had left a pizza box after the last session. This was said in a jovial tone with little hint of seriousness, as if it were a joke.
I suspected myself, but nothing was directed at me (it was said to the group as a whole). We all laughed about it and then moved on. The pizza box incident was never mentioned again. After this, W rarely came to games.
in Feb 2019 I got engaged and organised a celebratory meal with friends, including F and W. I was going to ask F if he would be my best man.
We heard nothing from them, so I messaged him to ask if they would be coming. Here is the message I got back (word for word with names redacted):
“We wont be coming. This may come as a shock, but me and W have just had a massive argument, and im afraid its over you. Ever since the day you put a pizza box on the floor of the flat and didn’t apologise its been festering. She feels you have disrespected her, and by doing so have also disrespected me. Its like you don’t even care. It came to a head last week when you barely even acknowledged her. She has given me the ultimatum. Its either you or her. She’s all I have left. After all we’ve been through, I cannot lose her. She isn’t coming to the game anymore because she cant stand to be around you. This needs fixing!”
This was the first time the pizza box had been mentioned in 4 months.
I was extremely apologetic, but F told me he didn’t know how I could fix it. W refused to speak to me. I ended up writing a letter of apology (It was as nice and sincere as possible).
There was a week of silence. My fiancé messaged the wife about it (against my knowledge). W never replied and blocked my fiancé.
Eventually F said that they wouldn’t forgive me. The letter
Tldr: Husband and I want to buy a home yogether. We both have property but he wants me to sell mine and keep his. I don't think it's fair. AITA?
I am a 33 year old woman, married to a 37 year old man. We have been married for 4 years. We met as we were both working as expats abroad but were always meant to go back to our home locations afterwards, England for me, Australia for him. When we met, I was worried about how how a relationship was going to work as he has two kids from a previous marriage. At the time, he assured me that he would follow me wherever I needed to be. We both owned homes in our respective countries before marriage So we got married and my career became more settled in the UK. His career is more international and allows him to work from everywhere.(Note that he earns muuuch more than I do). Nevertheless, we have been doing a lot of back and forth between the two countries, especially to make sure we spent as much time as possible with the kids. As I am getting older and thinking abiut having children, I would like like to start planning for that. I have started talking about us buying a house in the UK, with enough space for new kids to live in and older kids to come visit.
And here is the problem. He is adamant that we would need to sell my UK flat first to "limit our exposure to property". I mentioned that 1.we can afford to buy a home with both of our invomes without selling anything. Rental income on our current homes would be used to build an investment cushion 2. If we really needed to sell one home, it would make more sense to sell the Australian property, since no-one would live there anyway once we settle down in the UK (Kids live with their mother).
My worry here is that I feel that our contribution to this new home would not be equal if more than half of it came from the sale of a property I acquired prior to marriage, and spells out a lot about his commitment to us building a life together. Especially since we can afford it on both our incomes without selling anything. Also, moving down the line, I would like my child to benefit from inheriting my flat. I understand and am very happy for my step kids and my future kids to inherit whatever we have acquired in common in equal parts. However I would like my bio kid to benefit from my pre marriage financial position in the same way that my step kids would be the only ones benefiting from whatever their mother would leave behind. Also, if we were to separate, we would have... keep reading on reddit ➡
Sup sup, alright riven OTP here quick question is Atk Speed Quints worth it even on Riven they got buffed but shouldn't the 15 flat AD from quints and red be better on her? been asking a few streamers like box box prefers Atk Speed quints while BRNA likes the flat AD
Like, keto food is amazing. If you tell me you hate bacon and eggs, you can get out of my house, I didn't want to hear your opinion anyways.
But I feel like a lot of keto "substitutes", just flat out lie to you.
Shiritaki Noodles do not taste "just like" pasta.
Hearts of palm noodles do not taste "just like" pasta.
Cabbage Noodles do not taste "just like" pasta.
Almond flour cookies do not taste "just like" normal cookies.
Cauliflower pizza do not taste "just like" pizza.
Cauliflower do not taste "just like" rice.
Do I need to go on? I mean, why do all these food blogs just straight up lie to you? They all swear "I'm amazed at how similar it is to normal ____". But c'mon. We're not stupid. Ground almonds don't taste just like flour, and cauliflower doesn't taste like potatoes.
I am at my wits end and am having mental health issues because of this. My landlord keeps coming into my flat. Almost everyday. I come home and he is in there or has been in there and left a note. I can’t stand this anymore. He always has some excuse and keeps blaming me because it is a pandemic and I shouldn’t be out of the house anyway and one time I left a tap on a trickle and the sink clogged and overflowed but that was a year ago. He comes in and uses my toilet and puts sticky notes on any mess I left, I got into bed and there was one on my pillow saying I need to make my bed more. I can’t take this but I can’t change the locks! I called the police once months ago but they said he needed access for an emergency because there was water leaking but that was only once and it was a YEAR ago! Can I stop paying rent or something until he stops? Surely it can’t be right. He waits until I am out then comes in and eats my food and uses my toilet and moves things about.
Forgot to add, I’m in England.
I remember the day I picked it up. It was flat packed neatly in a box, with what felt like hundreds of tiny pieces and screws. All fitted together like Tetris.
I’d always wanted a shed. That sounds stupid, I know. But I’d lived in flats for years and now I’d moved I finally had a garden, some outdoor space and place to put a shed.
I wanted to use it as an escape. Not a place for my tools, or for junk that I didn’t want in the house. I wanted a haven that I could spend time in, somewhere I could hide from the world.
So when it arrived, flat packed in all its glory, I was ecstatic.
It took hours. I was only one petite woman and I struggled, but I didn’t want to ask for any help. I was determined that this would be mine. Only mine. I didn’t want to let anyone in on my project.
When it was finished I stepped back and looked at my handiwork. I considered what type of chair I might like inside, whether I wanted books or a television and if I wanted to paint it or leave the wood.
I always struggled to make my own decisions.
The next morning I rushed out to buy it all. I filled my car with plush furnishings and paint cans, decorative pictures and a rug that was more than I could really afford.
I got home. I dumped it all in the house and started to move items to the shed. I started with the paint and rollers, I put them all in a tough bag and trudged across the glass to my private little haven.
And there he was.
There was a man in my shed. He wasn’t anything special to look at; just a man, maybe a little younger than middle aged. He was handsome but tired. His face sagged as if he hadn’t slept in weeks and he was wearing a tattered suit and a pair of broken dress shoes.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, heart thumping as I dropped my bag and it split, paint can crashing and spilling across the grass.
“I don’t much like that colour.” He replied, gesturing to the duck egg blue stain across the lush foliage.
“Who are you?” I pushed. Frozen to the spot.
“My name’s Eli. I came with the shed.”
I didn’t answer at first. I was busy coming to terms with the ridiculousness of his statement. People don’t come with sheds. You can’t flat pack a person.
“You need to leave.” I answered, assessing the situation, wondering if he’d concealed a weapon and was going to attack me.
Would he force me into my house? Take my electrical items, my jewellery... my clothes? I stood in the garden staring into the shed in utter terror, blue spatter everywhere.
“You’r... keep reading on reddit ➡