Bimql chhetry.

I found out about this story about a week ago so forgive me if I get anything wrong. So my (19f) bf (21m) had been really into football and was a youth academy player from when he was 13 to 17 and was constantly told by coaches and staff and even other players that he was going to be a great player one day. That was until one day he had an awful injury and snapped his right leg in two places during training. He went to the hospital and spent days there waiting for it to be okay for him to leave until he did. So obviously during the time it was broken he didn't play football at all and after it was time for them to take off the casg and thing he asked the doctor if he could ever play football again and the assistant doctor said he'd have to check with the lead doctor he had. So he left the room and when he came back the doctor said "Yeah you can't play football" Of course, my bf was destroyed since he had always loved football but he understood and didn't want...

I need to preface this by saying my husband, we’ll call him Mark, has always been the “responsible one” in our marriage. He handles our budget, pays the bills, tracks every expense in a spreadsheet. I trusted that completely, which honestly is probably how this went unnoticed for so long. Mark was married before me, briefly, in his twenties, to a woman named Diane. They split amicably, no kids, no house together as far as I ever knew. He’s mentioned her maybe five times total in the eight years we’ve been together. I never had a reason to think about her at all. Last month our bank flagged some unusual activity while I was reviewing our joint statements for taxes. A recurring monthly transfer, same amount, same date, every single month, going out to an account I didn’t recognize. I asked Mark about it, expecting some boring explanation, a subscription, a forgotten bill, something normal. He got quiet. Then he told me it was Diane’s mortgage payment. I asked him to explain, because...

My son turned 14 recently. He used to be such a happy kid. He loved playing outside, playing video games, hanging out with his friends. Just a completely normal pre-teen. I think he was around 12 or 13 when things started to change. He spent more time inside. Maybe he was playing video games, but I wouldn’t know because he’d always be locked away inside his room. He started dressing in all black. I asked him why he didn’t like his old superhero shirts anymore, and it broke my heart when his response was, “Superheroes are stupid,” before shutting his door in my face. I talked to my wife about it, but I think she was in denial. “Boys will be boys,” she said. “Everyone has to grow up at some point.” It hurt to hear. Mainly because… part of me knew. I saw the warning signs. How he seemed to be attracted to darkness. How the light in his room never seemed to be on. It was always dirty in there. Empty energy drink cans. Snack wrappers everywhere. I tried to look past it. I tried to believe ...

February 20th I was at a dive bar looking for yet again, the love of my life. At a dang bar! Anyways, I thought this guy was cute, so I gave him a chance to talk. We talked for about 20 mins before I headed to the restroom. This guy turned out to be a dick, and stopped talking to me the rest of the night. However, there was this one guy that messaged me on Reddit the day before, but he didn’t answer promptly. I thought he might’ve ghosted me. I messaged him at the bar, and then we started talking on Reddit. Since then, we’ve been dating since April. We both have the same birthday :)

In April, I got a cold. For weeks after, I had a horrible cough. I’d have coughing fits that would cause me to vomit, I’d be unable to laugh without coughing, it went on and on. But otherwise, I felt fine. This went on for over a month. Until the end of May. I went to work that week, coughed so hard I pulled the muscles in my ribcage, and left. I’d had asthma as a kid, hadn’t been making the healthiest choices lately, it was just catching up to me and all I needed to do was rest and change some habits. I woke up the next morning, felt like every joint in my body had made it their life mission to make me suffer. I don’t even own a thermometer but when I got into my car and the dash said it was 100 degrees and I was shivering in a sweatshirt, I knew I was in for it. I got cold and flu medicine, pedialyte, ate even though I had no appetite. This lasted for less than a day. I dragged myself to bed that night, an emergency OTC inhaler next to me because I hadn’t had a prescription in alm...

Okay so I have had three shroom trips with psilocybin mushrooms and all of them have been very bad experiences but have left me with major insights about myself, (hence why i continued to do them after the first time), Recently i discovered the term "ego death" and am curious if anyone can tell me if thats what I experienced or if anyones experience on psychedelics was similar to mine. Heres what occurred... Trip #1). The first time I did this me and my friend (we are going to call her A) decided to take 6 grams. Yes I know that this was a bad decision but prior to this i became really fascinated with psychedelic assisted therapy and I CONSTANTLY researched psychedelics AKA curiosity killed the cat. Anyways, after taking this heroic dose I began to feel this onset of anxiety like something wasn't right and I had made a mistake, about 30 minutes after taking these shrooms I began to feel as what I can only describe as being sucked into my own mind and my eyes were fo...

I thought she was just acting weird, at first. For some clarification, my girlfriend had been planning a trip to California for the last four months. Normally, I’d have gone with her, but it was for her grandmother’s birthday. She was old, and this could’ve quite possibly been my girlfriend’s last chance to take a trip with her. She had spent those four months meticulously planning, as she always did, and the week before the trip, she must’ve had at least five full bags packed for her week-long venture. “You can never be too careful,” she always told me. She was always the planning type. Mapping things out. Going over every possibility. It was one of the things I admired about her. She hated when things didn’t go the way they were supposed to. That’s why, on the day of her trip, when I woke up to find her still lying in bed with me long after her early morning flight, I almost panicked. I shook her awake frantically, and her eyes slowly rolled open. She groggily asked why I was waking...